


spacing out

by jamieme



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bokuto is a ray of sunshine, Bullying, Child Neglect, Depression, First Year Akaashi, Gay Panic, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internal homophobia, M/M, Mental Illness, Panic Attacks, basically akaashi questioning his existence, bokuto and akaashi are bffs !!!, i swear its hurt & comfort, keiji is trying his best, kuroo and bokuto are best bros, protective bokuto ftw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamieme/pseuds/jamieme
Summary: Akaashi Keiji is not perfect, contrary to popular (and his own) belief.He is a mess and a half. But he’ll never admit it to anyone for as long as he’s alive.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 101
Kudos: 383





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> an angsty fic for your angsty needs. so... warning: this is a sad fic. im not a good enough writer to make u cry but ,,, hopefully this hurts?? In a good way? idk im sorry  
>   
> and I promise there’s comfort!!! at some point!!  
>   
> any tw are in the tags! If you guys feel like I should tw anything else, please let me know  
>   
> anyway! enjoy!  
> (title comes from the song Spacing Out by beabadobee)

_just because I don't talk doesn't mean I don't like talking_

_'cus sometimes I keep to myself_

_and sometimes it’s helps with my friend_

+

It’s only been a month since school started, and he can already feel glares stabbing his back. It’s not that he wasn’t used to it, but he had hoped that the hate and immature jealousy of others towards him would go away in high school.

Not that they really had much to be jealous of.

But girls think he’s like an ‘Ice Prince’, as if he was something out of a shoujo manga, and guys think he’s annoying for taking all the girls’ interest. If only they knew.

Not to mention, many of his classmates disliked him for being the top of their grade and getting into the private school with a scholarship even though his family is already rich. 

And now since he’s become starting setter for his team, the other first years on his team stare at him with jealousy. It was childish and selfish of him, but he had _relied on the fact_ that he could at least trust his teammates.

Well, not all of them are mean. Really, only two or three first years mildly dislike him. The rest of his teammates, third and second years are really encouraging (since the previous setter had graduated and there wasn’t any competition for Keiji). And passionate about volleyball.

Mainly the second year ace, Bokuto Koutarou. The boy who yells and cries randomly about volleyball, always gives his 120%, and is absolutely ridiculous (Keiji will never forget how Bokuto introduced himself as ‘Bok-hoot-to!’).

He’s an enigma; entirely the opposite of Keiji. It would be a lie if Keiji said he wasn’t… curious. Just a little bit.

Bokuto Koutarou with his grey and black spiked hair, big golden eyes, intimidating biceps, and the brightest grin Keiji has ever seen.

But volleyball is just a club ( _it’s supposed to be_ ); there’s no need to get emotionally invested in people who are going to graduate soon enough.

Keiji only has one goal, after all.

+

Practice is nice. It’s the only time Keiji can unwind and just _play._ The only time where there’s no parents or teachers or classmates expecting things from him. Just him and volleyball and strong teammates who always strived to be better.

It’s also nice to receive praise from the overenthusiastic ace, albeit he was undeserving at times. 

“Woah!! Akaashi!! That toss was perfect!!” Bokuto flails his arms, having just spiked the ball to create a deafening _smack_ on the court, “You’re amazing!” 

Keiji can only dip his head at the overzealous praise and will his face to not burn bright. 

“It was average, Bokuto-san. But thank you.”

Everywhere else, praise was curt and rare. But here, suddenly this owl-like, _weird_ boy tells him he’s amazing _all the time._

He knows he can’t get used to it, can’t get comfortable; he knows he won’t get this treatment from any rational person (which is literally everyone else), but it’s… it’s nice, yeah. 

+

_“He’s so cold. Why do people like him so much? He’s kinda boring.”_

_“Is he a sociopath? Ha, he’s incapable of emotions, literally!”_

_“Don’t hang out with him, he doesn’t care about anyone except himself.”_

Keiji is used to this judgement, it‘s been the same since middle school. It’s fine. As long as they don’t try to mess up his plans, he doesn’t care what his classmates think of him. ( _They’re not really wrong_ , Keiji thinks)

“akAAAASHI!!!” A loud voice rings through the hallway during lunch break.

His classmates stare at the crazy-haired boy that enters Keiji’s classroom.

“Hello, Bokuto-san.” Keiji says calmly, ignoring all the pointed stares from his classmates, “Did you need something?”

There’s snickers from guys laughing at how rude and emotionless he is, even to an upperclassman. Bokuto doesn’t seem to notice or care about his tone, though.

“Wanna give me some tosses?” Bokuto grins as he plants his palms on Keiji’s desk, almost knocking over his lunch. His fingers were long and calloused, veins crossing each other prominently, and nails cut short enough for Keiji to wince at the imaginable pain. Old scars scattered through the expanse of the tan skin. They're ...nice hands.

“Right now?” Keiji asks, unsure about skipping lunch, risking coming back late. But he has nothing else to do; he barely eats anyway, and nobody really talks to him.

Bokuto pumps a fist, eyes bright, “Yes! I don’t want to waste a second! Let’s go!” Then grabs Keiji’s wrist, and off they went to practice outside.

+

Suddenly, it became a routine for Bokuto to come into Keiji’s classroom, yelling for tosses, and Keiji taking his lunch outside.

At some point, they both just agree to meet outside and avoid his classmates’ and the teacher’s glare towards Bokuto’s loudness.

“Bokuto-san, why do you like volleyball so much?” Keiji asks one day, unsure where he got the sudden confidence

Mid-receive, Bokuto freezes, letting the ball fall on his head. The boy doesn’t even react at the impact.

Keiji tilts his head in confusion, “Um. Are you alright?”

Suddenly, Bokuto perks up, “I love volleyball! Spikes are fun!” He picks up the volleyball and tosses it up hastily.

Trying not to get annoyed at the vague answer, Keiji receives the toss, and they get back into a groove.

“But it’s way more fun to see the defeated look on the other team’s faces when you win.” Bokuto’s voice is eerily calm, more composed than anything Keiji has ever heard from him.

Normally, Keiji would chalk it up to Bokuto being way too passionate about volleyball because he’s the ace, but… there’s a fire in those golden eyes, something that scares yet fills Keiji with awe.

In a snap, Bokuto reverts back to his bubbly self, the fire subdued. Keiji reels at the sudden change, unsure what to make of the vaguely threatening statement.

“Anyway! I’m glad you joined the team!” Bokuto chirps, “We’re gonna be unstoppable this year!! Wait till you see my straights!!”

Keiji nods slowly, “Of course, Bokuto-san. Nationals is the goal, right?”

For a second, the fire flickers back, “Obviously.” There’s a smug grin and a raised fist.

It’s not difficult to feel the same amount of passion.

+

“Hm, Akaashi, what do you do to get such good grades?”

The words are innocent, but the leering grins mean Keiji is to expect some bruises soon.

“I study. Are you familiar with the term?” Keiji asks, not caring that he’s just being provocative.

Now there’s two boys looking down at him in anger, and maybe he should feel fear, but a small, hidden part of him feels he deserves it for the many, many things he’s done wrong already. This is the universe’s way of reprimanding him.

As soon as school is over, the two boys throw their arms over Keiji’s shoulders and drag him to a dark corner behind the school.

And that’s how he ends up with purple spattering on his abdomen. But he’s careful when he changes into his practice uniform, makes sure his teammates don’t see. It’s not like he expects them to notice or care. 

But the winces can’t be helped.

“What’s up, Akaashi? You feeling alright?” Bokuto asks, eyes wide with curiosity.

Keiji does his best to not let emotions flood his eyes, “I’m fine, Bokuto-san. Are you sure I shouldn’t be the one asking you that, after you’ve missed two spikes in a row?”

“Are you sure it’s not because your tosses suck?” Another first year, Yasuhiro, yells out, who somehow overhears the conversation. _The irony of his name..._

Bokuto frowns at Yasuhiro, “Hm, well, Akaashi’s toss was good, and I- yeah, I got distracted…” At least he has the common sense to look ashamed, “But hey hey hey! I got all the other spikes in!! They were super cool! I’m not letting another one get away!”

Yasuhiro frowns, probably upset that an upperclassman defended Keiji. It’s fine. What’s a couple of more bruises?

“Akaashi!! Toss to me!” 

Wincing, the throbbing pain under his shirt gives him a headache as he tries to focus on tossing perfectly.

+

He walks into his house quietly, not wanting to wake up anyone.

“I’m home,” He whispers, leaving his shoes neatly at the entrance.

“Welcome back,” His mom says from the kitchen, unexpectedly awake.

Keiji trips at the shock of seeing his mother awake at 10 pm.

“Uh… what are you doing awake, mom?” He asks, trying to remember if he did anything to warrant the narrow eyed glare he’s receiving.

His mother just gets up from her chair silently, “There have been posters asking for tutors to help other students. I signed you up. You’re going to start tomorrow after school.”

Really, there wouldn’t have been a problem with tutoring kids; he’s done that plenty before. But. He has practice after school.

“I have practice after school. It doesn’t-” Keiji begins, already knowing he’s going to lose this fight, but he _doesn’t want to_ -

“There will be no discussion about this. What will look better, you helping other students become academically proficient, basically community service, or a measly volleyball club?” His mother holds a hand up, and it’s scarier than it should be; his mom is a short woman, with a round bob and a naturally beautiful face.

If anyone else saw her, they’d think she’s a nice, sweet motherly woman, but Keiji knows better. His mother is a ruthless sergeant that demands only perfection, nothing less. Her own life has been a success, now being an incredibly successful and well-known lawyer.

Though Keiji appreciates the immense thought she puts into his future, there’s some days when he feels exhausted just by existing.

But that exhaustion and growing anger is quelled by volleyball. But if she takes volleyball away...

There’s panic rising in Keiji’s throat, “I- I can’t quit volleyball-”

But his mother only tsks, “Just miss some practices then. But you _are_ going to tutor this girl tomorrow. Don’t make me look bad. And most importantly, don’t make yourself look bad by canceling. You know better than that, Keiji.” Her cold eyes have Keiji looking down at his toes.

Panic and want and desperation begin to claw at his chest, _I don’t know what I'll do if I miss volleyball, I have to go to practice, I can’t miss it, I can’t I can’t-_ he’s suffocating, but he wills his features to remain calm.

He’s sure if he wasn’t so affected by the anxiety that suddenly fills him, he’d probably think up a good bargain. But no, his head is foggy, and there’s no room for rationality. 

“I’m the starting setter, mom, if I miss practice, they’ll-” By now, desperation is clear in his tone. Damn.

“I don’t care.” And she’s cold, so so cold. It’s always freezing in this house.

“Mom! I just-” The panic has finally ripped a hole in his chest, reaching out to anything alive. 

_Oh, no,_ Keiji chides himself for showing too much emotion, for showing weakness.

His mother is still, her pale face unmoving at the anxiety seeping from her child.

“Do not raise your voice at me. End of discussion. If you do not tutor the girl tomorrow, I’ll be very disappointed.” There’s no compassion as she glares at him and turns to her room, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

It’s freezing.

+

In the morning, the girl he’s supposed to tutor shows up at his class, apologizing and asking to reschedule.

It’s not even an overstatement that Keiji almost cries in relief.

Though instead, he nods calmly, “That’s okay. Is Saturday afternoon good for you?” He keeps his voice steady, trying to ignore the girl’s hand on his shoulder.

“Yes! Oh my god, thank you! My mom would’ve killed me if I failed another maths test!” The girl sighs in relief, leaning onto his shoulder. Her long brown hair tickles his cheek.

And there's a slight anger, that this girl was allowed to _fail_ , and then her only punishment is to be tutored by another high schooler. At least she’s willing to get better.

When Keiji had gotten an 82 on his English essay last year, his dad had made him study every afternoon, only talked in English the whole week (his father often traveled abroad for work and was fluent in English- which also led to higher expectations), and didn’t give him proper dinner until he got a better grade in English.

It was… harsh, to say the least. But he got better. He’s practically fluent in English now, and he has the best grades in that class. Well, he has the best grades in all his classes, so his parents must’ve done something right.

Keiji nods once again, “Alright, what’s your number? I’ll text you my address.”

Quickly, the girl tells him her phone number and leaves when the warning bell rings. She wiggles her fingers at him, and he just… nods. He tries not to scrunch his nose at the lingering sweet smell of the girl’s perfume.

Then those two boys, he now knew their names, Hitoshi and Minoru, lean against his desk, innocent smiles, but cruel eyes.

They wiggle their eyebrows at him, as if they were close friends, “So… _Keiji,_ who’s that hot chick that came to talk to you?” 

“If I recall correctly, it’s none of your business.” Keiji might be easy to punch, but he’s not a coward.

And he’s not nice. It's disappointing to many people. But not to these boys.

Anger flares in the other two boys and the familiar shark-like grins grow on their ugly faces.

It was entirely the wrong answer, but Keiji couldn’t care less. Each punch and bruise hurt like hell, but Keiji needed the reminder that he wasn’t perfect, he still had work to do, things to change. 

The pain and anxiety built up and up and up. Keiji constantly feels like he was on the edge of.. something. It’s unnerving.

He can’t remember the last time he felt salty tears on his cheeks. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> featuring: ~gay panic~

_ are you dumb? are you stupid? _

_ is it me or is it pretty obvious? _

+

  
_His hands hurt from writing so much, but every time he stopped, his mother looked at him sternly; he didn’t really know why she did, but he didn’t want to be hated._

_“Keiji, I know you don’t like writing, but I promise this will help you. You don’t see it now, but everything I’m doing for you will help you in the future. I don’t want you falling behind.” His mom said, as she handed him another paragraph to write._

_He was only 6, but he understood that real life was not easy. He needed to work hard now to get a head start, to be able to relax in the future. Maybe. His parents don’t seem very relaxed._

_“Keiji, sometimes people aren’t nice. They can be cruel, but it’s not up to you to change them. Even if you tell someone, they’re probably not going to listen to you because the world is cruel, and no one cares about anybody but themselves. But you can show them you’re better by working hard and always coming out on top.”_

_He was only 8 when he got his first bully. The teacher had praised him for being the only one in class to get 100 on the test, and some boys didn’t really like being inferior for the first time in their life._

_“Keiji, whenever you feel like crying, keep it inside. Wait until you’re alone, and then let your feelings flow. It’s not bad to cry, but it can slow you down. Instead of crying, pour yourself into your work and use those emotions to focus on something better.”_

_He was only 11 when he failed his first math test. He didn’t know how to handle the dooming feeling of disappointment, of going home with too many red marks._

_“Keiji, look at those men across the street. That is the epitome of being a disappointment. Not only is it disgusting, but their lives are probably failures. What will they gain from- from being like that? I’m glad I don’t have to worry about that with you.”_

_He was 14 when he realized that no matter what he did to be perfect, he was already a disgusting disappointment. The only thing he can do now is to pretend, pretend, pretend that he’s normal and that everything is fine. He’s normal, he’s normal, he’s not a disappointment. It’s fine._

_“Keiji, I’m doing this for your own good. I’m not here to be your friend, I’m here to help you have the best life, in the future. You’ll thank me later.”_

_He was 15 when he realized that he had never been truly loved. Not by his parents, not by the squealing girls in his class, not by the people who cheated off him and called themselves his friends. Maybe it was better this way. So far his grades were the best, he was on the way to a good future._

_But an ugly, raw part of him that he learned to shut out at a young age whispered,_ What about a good present? What about now? Why’re you working so hard for a future you don’t even want? Have you ever been happy?

_He ignored it. He numbed himself from anything that wouldn’t help him. There’s no point in trying to victimize himself in situations he couldn’t fix. It’d just hurt more._

_Sure, he knows being perfect is impossible, but it’s the only way he’ll ever be ~~loved~~ acknowledged. Because he’s disgusting and desperate for praise, no matter how much he loses of himself. _

_He just wants to be accepted. But that’s just too much to ask for._

Keiji is 16, and he is ice cold and mean and surrounded by walls. He knows his goal is impossible, but if he gives up on it, he’ll probably dissipate into nothingness and pain. He needs something to hold onto. So he pretends. And he works. And he numbs his eyes and heart. 

Nothing can break him if he doesn’t let it.

+

**Bokuto-san**

**9:32 pm** AKAASHI LOOK AT THIS VIDEO!!!!

**9:32 pm** <https://youtu.be/71PD2f1ogyk>

**9:33 pm** ITS A BABY!!! 

It’s not the first time Bokuto texts him, and it’s not the first time he’s sent him a video, but Keiji has never had many people text him, so when the phone buzzes, it makes him jump.

Keiji reluctantly clicks on the link, and it opens up a video of a baby owl in a cave. At first, it’s kind of creepy, but then the owl begins to move, as if it’s scared, looking for comfort in the walls, and it’s incredibly cute.

**Me**

**9:34 pm** It’s a cute owl

The small bird’s reaction and confusion is admittedly endearing, and it kind of reminds him of Bokuto… but he’ll keep that thought to himself.

**Bokuto-san**

**9:34 pm** I KNOW RIGHT!!!

**9:34 pm** IT REMINDS ME OF U (๑>◡<๑)

The recent text makes Keiji’s breath catch. Does Bokuto even know the implications of his text? 

Before he can refute Bokuto’s text, another text buzzes in.

**Bokuto-san**

**9:35 pm** akaashi do u happen to know how to find the x intercepts from a rad equation 

**9:35 pm** ive been staring at the same problem for 30 mins (´；ω；`)

**Me**

**9:35 pm** you were looking up owl videos

**Bokuto-San**

**9:35 pm** AKAAAAASHIIIII SHHHHHHH

**9:36 pm** ok but can u help me pls ;_;

And, well, Keiji has no other choice but to call Bokuto and help him through the math problem.

(He will completely deny blushing when Bokuto calls him a genius and incredible.)

+

Tutoring the girl is easy. All Keiji has to do is explain in the simplest way, and her eyes light up with understanding. It’s kind of satisfying to see success so plainly.

In turn, he receives way too many messages from her. His phone buzzes in his locker, and Bokuto snatches it and reads the message.

“Oho ho? Who’s this ‘Ayumi-san’?” Bokuto asks, jumping up and down.

Keiji’s not sure what to say, but he feels an irrational anger at Bokuto’s implication. 

_It’s okay, it’s okay, he doesn’t know, maybe you should ask her out, maybe you_ do _like girls-_

Then Keiji stops, willing all his unnecessary thoughts away to the very dark back of his mind.

“She’s the girl I’m tutoring.” Keiji answers, “Bokuto-san, weren’t you also looking for a tutor?”

Bokuto sighs, shoulders slumped in disappointment, “So, not your girlfriend? She seems interested, though~” Bokuto gives him back his phone and goes back to yelling, “I only need help in math! I swear I’m kind of smart! Besides I only need volleyball! Universities will be crawling to me when they see my straight!” 

After striking a ridiculous pose and smirking and receiving unimpressed looks from many of his teammates including Keiji, Bokuto goes back to changing his clothes.

“Bokuto-san, I'm sure once your straights aren’t just pure luck, they’ll be very useful for games.” Keiji manages to say, trying to not come off as sarcastic.

It’s weird. He doesn’t really care what others think of him, but this owl boy has become some kind of friend, and Keiji kinda doesn’t want to lose him. As much as he tries to convince himself that, _no, it’s okay, people come and go and none of them really like you,_ but Bokuto is really good at pretending he enjoys Keiji’s presence. And Keiji really appreciates it.

“My- my straights aren’t just luck! They’re just… you know...” Bokuto tries to explain, and Keiji tries not to smile at his ridiculousness.

“Okay, Bokuto-san.” Keiji replies, holding the door open for Bokuto, ready to leave for practice.

Bokuto jumps up and down, “I promise it’s not luck! My hand just- sometimes decides not to work with me!” 

+

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve just stopped talking to Bokuto when he started feeling too much around him. (friendship seemed to be too much, huh)

But no, here he is, at Bokuto’s house after practice, helping him with his math homework. Sitting next to him at a small table. In Bokuto’s room. Alone.

It shouldn’t freak Keiji out. But. He’s freaking out.

Silently and internally, of course.

“So, uh. What the fuck is an oblique asymptote.” Bokuto asks, leaning against Keiji’s shoulder.

Keiji’s heart suddenly flutters, and he’s suddenly glad he’s a year ahead in his math studies. And, wow, that is not the same feeling as when Ayumi-san leans on him. And uh fuck. This. Can’t be happening.

So it’s not. It’s not happening. Keiji is still in control. 

“It’s also called a slant asymptote, and it’s exactly as it sounds.” Keiji answers, making sure there are no trembles in his voice. 

Bokuto slumps forward onto the table, and Keiji flinches at the _thud_ of Bokuto’s head hitting the table. But Bokuto remains still, whining about math and _it’s impossible_ and _when will I ever need asymptotes_.

“Bokuto-san, if you finish your homework fast, we can go practice outside. Besides, you need good grades to go to the training camps.” Keiji tries to reason, not really sure how to liven things up. “Didn’t you want to introduce me to, uh, Kuroo-san?”

At that, Bokuto perks up. “For Kuroo The Dumbass!” He grabs his pencil determinedly, brows furrowed in concentration. Keiji suddenly has mixed feelings about this Kuroo-san.

It takes them about two hours to finish all their homework, and the whole time Keiji tried not to show how flustered he was whenever Bokuto’s knee or hand brushed against his. 

Besides, Bokuto’s oblivious to everything around him. One time, some girls were laughing at his hairdo, and he had thought they were planning to confess to Keiji. 

Also, Bokuto still hasn’t caught on to the winces during practice. Not that Keiji wants him to. He’ll deal with it himself.

Now they’re in Bokuto’s backyard, passing a volleyball to each other over a net. Sometimes Bokuto will try to spike it, though it ends with the ball hitting the net and rolling away.

“Akaashi! Why do you love volleyball?” Bokuto asks randomly.

The question had been so unexpected, that Keiji flubbed his receive causing the ball to go right into the net.

Flustered, Keiji unusually stutters, “Uh- um, I wouldn’t say love. Love is a strong word, Bokuto-san. I enjoy playing volleyball. It’s a nice.. distraction? Hm, the exercise is good. The proportion of cardio and muscle workout is good. Uh…” 

At this point, Keiji is just rambling and even Bokuto knew, for he was grinning. He has a look in his eyes that says he knows something Keiji didn’t.

As Bokuto kept staring at him with that All-Knowing look, Keiji grew more uncomfortable.

“What?” He hugged the volleyball closer, as if the inanimate object could bring him any comfort.

But Bokuto’s grin only grew wider, “You know, you never get flustered. It’s like you’re a robot or something,” Keiji tries to not let that comparison hurt him, “But sometimes, you’ll get this look in your eyes, like you’re trying so hard to come off as disinterested. It’s really cute! But I can tell, Akaaaashi!! You’re my best friend! I can read you like a book!”

And, well, that completely floors Keiji. He knows there’s no stopping the flush that creeps from the back of his neck onto his cheeks. 

_Best friends. Really cute. Come off as disinterested._

Oh, God. His heart is beating so fast. Yeah. Keiji is completely fucked, huh? 

Bokuto just grins.

+

Honestly, he’s torn between feeling guilt for crushing on his new (and first) best friend, and feeling disappointed in himself for not being able to push down his feelings. Both of which make Keiji feel like shit. (It’s always all or nothing with him)

Then there’s the giddy and nervous feeling of having acquired a new crush. He enjoys this one much more.

Looking at Bokuto through lovesick eyes isn’t really different; all his attractive traits are the same thing Keiji noticed before. Does that mean he’s been interested in him since the beginning?

Of course, there’s the reminder that he’s disgusting for liking another guy every time he comes home; just the sight of his mother’s face reminds him. But they don’t know. They can’t know. So they will never know.

(He still believes his mom)

Keiji may be stupid for going against everything he’s been taught, but he’s not a complete idiot to not hide the fact that he likes another boy. He’ll keep this ‘guilty pleasure’ to himself. Absolutely no one can know.

+

It’s currently lunch, so they’re outside, sitting on a bench, their legs too close for Keiji’s comfort.

“Hmm,” Bokuto starts, “Do you like anyone, Akaashi?”

His voice is curious and innocent, so Keiji doesn’t panic, not yet.

“No. Do you, Bokuto-san?” And damn it, that’s not what he wanted to ask.

Now his heart aches, and he knows he won’t be able to handle the answer. But his face reveals nothing. 

Bokuto hums, “Nope.” And Keiji lets his heart rest easy until Bokuto continues, “Well. There’s one person. But they definitely don’t like me back.”

Well. Keiji wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly not that. It hurts. It hurts more than it should. Where did all his years of numbing feelings go?

“But that’s not what I wanted to get into.” Bokuto waves a hand, “So… um. There’s this girl in my class…I’m sure you’d like her! She’s really smart and nice!”

Keiji only raises an eyebrow, “Where are you going with this?” He really hopes this conversation is not going the direction he thinks it’s going.

“I was wondering if you’d like to meet her? At a cafe? At 6pm on Saturday?” Bokuto asks, grins shyly.

It’s like a slap in the face. A reminder.

And Keiji is so shocked, he’s suddenly spun back into the reality that boys cannot like boys, it’s not normal, that he’s not right, why can’t he just like girls? Any girl?  
-and he’s sure he has a strange expression on his face right now.

“Ah… no? It’s okay! I’ll… tell her when I get back to class.” Bokuto says, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Then Keiji snaps back into his body, and the feeling of being disgusting and abnormal and wrong stays with him, like a rough and uncomfortable blanket that suffocates him. What did he think would come from his feelings? That Bokuto would like him back? No, Bokuto isn’t abnormal or disgusting. He’s… well, he’s beautiful.

Maybe a date with a girl will make him rethink this.. this ‘crush’.

Suddenly, he grabs Bokuto’s arm, “Yes. I’ll- I’ll go on that date. It’s fine.”

It’s supposed to be the right answer, yet Bokuto’s grin turns plastic, and it’s gross, and Keiji’s not even sure why he’s doing whatever he’s doing.

“Nice! Let me give you her number!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we love to see it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry in advance...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who's read and commented! this is my first chaptered fic so im working on how to split up the chapters and fic! i appreciate all the encouragement <3

_i'm just spacing out_

_i need something to catch me_

_i need something to catch me_

+

The date goes about as well as Keiji expected it to go.

As in: it was boring as hell and incredibly awkward.

They had just sat there and talked about.. school. Literally. 

When Keiji got home, his mom had pestered him about his date, and she looked so happy for once that Keiji had impulsively told her they planned a second date. (That definitely wasn’t true.)

So now he’s tangled himself in that lie.

He drops face first onto his bed, exhausted from socialising and pretending to be interested.

The date wasn’t successful by any means. But maybe it was just the girl… he just hasn’t found the _right_ girl. 

Maybe he _thought_ he had a crush on Bokuto because he was one of the first friends. Of course. With the very little experience Keiji has, how would he be able to tell the difference between romance and friendship? Maybe what he thought was romantic longing for a boy is really just longing for friendship. 

Making up his mind, Keiji puts his walls up again and swears to himself to never make a mistake like that again.

+

**Bokuto-san** **10:25 pm**

soooooooooooo……..

hOW WAS THE DATE?!?!!

**me 10:28 pm**

It was fine. We decided to be friends.

**Bokuto-san 10:28 pm**

awww :((( 

i’ll find u someone better!!!! 

I’m glad u guys are friends now!!

Yeah, Keiji wasn’t going to be talking to that girl anytime soon. Yes, they remained on good terms, but friends? She wouldn’t want that.

**me 10:32 pm**

Yes, me too.

+

Two weeks later, they were heading to lunch, and Bokuto threw his arm over Keiji’s shoulders, pulling him quickly.

“Bokuto-San, that hurts… wait…” Keiji tried to protest, but to no avail. ( _No,_ he does _not_ blush because he can feel Bokuto’s muscles on his neck, he _does not._ )

“I can’t believe it!” Bokuto yells, practically in his ear. “You got a girlfriend! By yourself!”

Ah, right. Mei-chan. Another first year girl who confessed to him three days ago. And he’d accepted.

“We haven’t really….” Keiji starts, but immediately stops when he notices the change in Bokuto’s demeanor. “What’s wrong, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto sits down underneath the shade of a tree and hugs his knees. “Why… why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend?”

_What?_ Keiji’s usual numb mask slips for a second, showing how shocked he is. Fortunately, Bokuto’s face is buried in his knees.

“What do you mean, Bokuto-san?” Keiji isn’t sure how to approach Bokuto. He’s never seen him this… sad.

Bokuto whines some more, “We’re _best friends_. You’re supposed to tell me stuff like this!” 

Keiji can definitely hear sniffling. Are girlfriends really that important? It’s not like he _loves_ her or plans to marry her. She’s just a girl who confessed to him.

But before he can say any of that, Bokuto looks up, and those teary eyes and pout make Keiji’s heart _hurt_. (It shouldn’t though. So it doesn’t.)

Carefully, Keiji sits next to him. “Bokuto-san, she… It's only been three days.” He doesn’t want to hurt his only friend, his _best_ friend apparently, but he doesn’t have much experience comforting others (nor being comforted).

“So?! We had practice everyday! We walked home together! You could’ve told me then!” Bokuto cries. 

Seriously, Keiji is so perplexed at this outrage. But he still tries to scramble for excuses, knowing all of them are poor and obviously see through.

“Um… I… just thought… well, she’d break up with me soon, so I didn’t want to make a big deal of something that won’t last.” Keiji settles. It’s kind of true, so it’s easier to say. Lying is easy and simple, he’s been lying his whole life, but lying to Bokuto is unexpectedly difficult.

And the excuse works out, for Bokuto’s golden eyes turn to him with some kind of shock in his eyes, yet believing.

“What? Why would she break up with you?” Bokuto’s voice muffled as he wipes his nose and eyes with the bottom of his shirt. Keiji pointedly looks away from the exposed tan skin- 

Keiji didn’t expect to be interrogated, so he wriggles in place as he tries to come up with some warped truth of his. 

“Well, I’m difficult to deal with. I’m not very nice, and I don’t really know how to be a boyfriend. I’m not really fun to be around, and Mei-chan has already complained about me not smiling. It’s alright though, it’s my fault.” Keiji says, unemotionally. 

And as he says it, he realizes how true these points are. He’s not someone people would want to spend their free time with. Keiji looks over to Bokuto who’s now staring at him with some kind of pained expression, _does he have to go to the restroom?,_ and wonders why Bokuto, the golden boy, would want to keep spending time with him? Much less be his _best friend_? 

“No!!” Bokuto yells out, raising his hands suddenly, almost punching Keiji in the face. “You’re amazing! I love hanging out with you! You’re so nice and amazing!! Why would you say that about yourself?”

Bokuto is pink the face from the lack of breath he takes in between his sentences. Keiji is weirdly flattered at the effort and excitement, though all this does is get his hopes up. 

You know, when Keiji decided to himself that he no longer like Bokuto, he thought it’d be easy to let go. His feelings are never that meaningful anyway, but somehow staying as friends with Bokuto has made it worse. But _what_ is worse? What exactly does he even feel toward Bokuto? 

He’s so inexperienced with feelings.

“Thanks, Bokuto-san. I appreciate it. Not everyone thinks like you, though.” Keiji says, pressing his lips firmly together as to not smile.

Bokuto groans again, apparently unsatisfied with Keiji’s response. He scrunches his nose angrily and takes a hand through his gelled hair. Keiji’s _really_ shouldn’t be as mesmerized by the action as he is.

“It doesn’t matter what others think. _I’m_ your best friend! I know you best! If others, not even your girlfriend, can see that, are they really worth it?” 

For all it’s comforting purposes, that strikes a chord in Keiji, though.

_If I’m supposedly so good, why can’t my mom see that?_

It’s a bitter thought that Keiji doesn’t want to dwell on.

So his mind turns to the alternative.

“How are you so sure you know me best?” Keiji snaps, harsher than he meant.

Bokuto flinches at the words, as if they physically assaulted him.

His golden eyes look hurt, and Keiji hates how pained he looks.

“Wh… what do you mean?” His voice is meek, a word Keiji had never thought he’d use to describe Bokuto.

But Keiji is too prideful and stubborn and bitter and _hurt._ The pain is slipping through his fingers, and anxiety is slipping in. 

“You don’t know me at all. Best friends? I don’t have _friends_ , Bokuto-San.” Keiji says, voice eerily calm. Nothing is coming out the way he wants it to.

But here he is, sitting outside, wind blowing through his hair, his forgotten bento at his feet, and being angry at Bokuto for no reason.

“Are _we_ best friends? Or am I just some who listens to you all the time? _I_ know _you._ Say, Bokuto-San, do you even know my favorite color?”

And, well, damn, he just can’t seem to control his tongue.

Bokuto looks like he’s on the brink of tears. His cheeks turn red, “Is- is it… blue?”

Akaashi Keiji doesn’t have a favorite color. And that fact suddenly shreds his heart.

“Bokuto-San. Are you sure we’re even friends at all?” Keiji says, and now he’s hurting himself. He had started this rant because of his bitterness, but now he’s just left with a wounded feeling. Why did he start believing he could make friends?

“Akaashi, I’m- I’m sorry. I promise I-” 

Keiji inhales sharply, trying not to let his feelings escape him, “I don’t care. I’ve never really considered you a friend to begin with. I’ll see you at practice.”

And he turns, and he goes back to class, and he doesn’t look back, and he doesn’t cry.

It’s strange. He didn’t think he cared much for Bokuto, but his chest feels like it’s crushing him from within. It’s an awful feeling he hadn't felt in years; it’s too much.

Why? Why did he do that?

+

It’s been a couple of days, and Keiji hasn’t talked to Bokuto. They just exchange the necessary words at practice, but that’s it.

He’d broken up with Mei-chan the day of the fight, and he’d also made her cry.

He just can’t seem to do anything right.

But that’s what he gets. He _knows_ people don’t treat you the way you want to be treated, no matter how ‘perfect’ you are. His mother had warned him about this. But it still _hurts._ How was he supposed to deal with this agony until he found a stable job and a big house? 

Why did he let Bokuto hurt him so much?

The metaphorical wound in his heart stings every time he sees Bokuto. Because Bokuto is still smiling.

He’s still smiling and laughing and jumping and hitting spikes at 120%. Bokuto is doing fine, more than fine, without Keiji.

And it leaves Keiji hollow.

Sure, he was used to feeling empty and numb, but now knowing what it felt like to have just a little bit of fondness, a little bit of sunshine, a little bit of understanding- a void consumes him.

Keiji sighs. 

The aloof mask slips back on over his eyes, heart, and face. He’s not warm. 

He’s ice cold, mean, and surrounded by walls.

+

“Keiji. What is the meaning of this?” His father says at the dinner table.

And Keiji doesn’t even have to look up to know what his father’s talking about.

The day of the fight, he’d been so shaken with nerves and anger that he couldn’t concentrate on his maths quiz.

And the report card came in today.

“This isn’t an acceptable grade, Keiji,” his mother tuts, “What are you going to do to make this up? I bet it was that girlfriend you got, I thought you knew better than to hang out with people like that.”

It’s the tone that angers him. So much disgust and hate. Keiji is tired of hearing it every day.

“I’ve already taken an extra credit assignment, but the teacher said I won’t get full credit for it since my grades are already good in that class.” Keiji replies carefully, not wanting to step on any land mines.

But, of course, there’s always something wrong.

“ _Good_ ? Do you think _good_ grades are going to get you into Aichi University?” His mom hisses. Her eyes are an icy glare that makes his breath catch in anxiety.

~~_Ah, damn. I hate this_ . ~~

_Why am I such a failure?_

“You won’t be eating dinner with us until your next report card. And there better be an improvement.” His dad declares, his voice unforgiving.

His mom sighs in disappointment, and it stings, but she’s cold, so cold, “We didn’t think we’d have to discipline you once you were in high school, but you leave us no choice. Go to your room.”

Dropping his fork next to his full plate, he grabs his backpack and some calorie bars and silently trudges to his room.

Hot tears of shame make his vision blurry, but Keiji doesn’t let any of them fall. 

\+ 

The first time he’d been invited to Bokuto’s house, it was like a whiplash. 

He’d thought it was normal for houses to be empty and dark. That it was normal for it to be silent.

But the Bokuto household was nothing like that.

It was warm. So warm. Bright. Living.

It’s a feeling he’s trying to forget.

+

It’s been a week, and Keiji wants to tear his hair out. 

During the day, his mind is held together by a single tight cord. But lying in his bed late at night somehow lowers his inhibitions, letting the cord loose. Thoughts that he’d never consider before seep into his head.

His stomach growls, and Keiji clutches at his abdomen, as if it’d suppress the hunger pains. After only being allowed to eat calorie bars, by now it’s just dirt in his mouth. And he’s so exhausted, at all time and by everything.

Everything's incredibly lonely.

Bokuto is still ignoring him, Mei-Chan spread more ugly rumors about him so now people taunt him even more, and Minoru and Hitoshi still find poor excuses to beat him up. He feels so helpless all the time. 

He’s supposed to be above that. He’s not supposed to feel anything. He’s been taught to forget and move on. So why does everything hurt so much?

Nobody seems to notice how much pain he’s in. But Keiji guesses that’s due to his perfect mask; no emotion escapes from him.

He’s stone cold on the outside.

But inside, he’s _anxious_.

Why does he have to suffer? What did he do wrong? He’s been trying so hard to please his parents, but nothing seems to be right. He’s always wrong, wrong, _wrong_ , _disgusting, stupid_. 

It’s been like this for years and years, nothing’s really changed. His parents are always cold. His classmates still sneer at him. He’s been deprived of food before.

Except. This year, he made a friend. Or he _thought_ he did. And even though he didn’t let his walls down, he feels the gaping hole Boktuo left in his heart.

He has no friends, he’s not nice, he’s not attractive, he’s always making stupid decisions. Why is he even alive? What’s the point?

His sets aren’t even needed anymore; Bokuto makes an effort to avoid practicing with him, always asking about first or second years to set to him. 

Every time Bokuto spikes their toss, he grins and yells brightly, and it cracks Keiji’s heart.

Now even volleyball is painful.

There’s no doubt. Keiji is failing. There is no reason for his existence, and the realization of that hurts more than it should.

Was he only made to suffer? Was he truly needed on this earth? Was he really that expendable? Did anyone care for him at all?

+

  
“Hey, Akaashi,” One of his classmates pats him on the back, as if they were good friends, “did you do the English homework? Can I see it? I know you’re fluent in English!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @im-a-beautiful-meme if u wanna talk about my fic or anything haikyuu!! related :)
> 
> thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh boy,,,,,

_ I'm just stressing out _

_ I need something to hold me _

_ I need something to hold me _

+

It’s Wednesday afternoon, the only afternoon they don’t have practice during the week, and he’s currently in the living room with Ayumi-san.

They’re home alone, like always, and Keiji is trying to make dinner as he’s also trying to teach Ayumi how to find sinusoidal equations. It’s not an easy feat.

“Keiji, how are you so smart?” Ayumi asks, giggling softly in the way that Keiji’s heard many girls giggle around him.

Watching as the water in the vegetable broth for the miso soup doesn’t boil, he shrugs, “I just study.” 

That makes Ayumi giggle again, “Gosh, you must have such a high IQ! I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re an actual genius!” She walks towards him in the kitchen.

Somehow, when she compliments him, it doesn’t feel as warm as when Bokuto did. 

“I’m not sure about that…” Keiji only replies, unsure of why she’s getting so close to him.

Then, gently, she puts her hand on his forearm, her nails pink and her palm soft. And Keiji immediately tenses. What the hell is this situation?

Ayumi begins to lean in, sickly sweet perfume suffocating Keiji. Her hair is tickling his cheeks and her nails dig slightly into his arm. And now her lips are on his.

Her lips are sticky and taste fruity from her lip gloss, and Keiji is realizing very quickly how uncomfortable he is with this. Yet he can’t move. 

Isn’t he supposed to like this?

But no, Keiji feels shaken to the core, a sense of dread beginning to run through his veins. The kiss feels so  _ wrong. _ It’s like falling into quicksand, immense fear yet he can’t move.

Ayumi moves though. She steps closer to him, and her lips begin to move against his and oh god that’s not- does not- it’s not okay-

Without even thinking about it, Keiji shoves her away from him, making her stumble in the direction of three stove.

It all happens so quickly. Before she reaches the hot pan in her stumbling, Keiji leaps forwards and grabs her just in time. He twists their bodies in order to save her from burning herself; in turn, his back collides with the hot pan, sending a singing pain through his entire body.

He chokes out a yell in pain, promptly letting go of Ayumi, letting her fall safely away from the stove. The pan falls to the floor from the impact, vapor rising from the broth.

The girl on his floor just stares at him; so much happened in a few seconds.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Ayumi finally manages to say, her hair flying everywhere, “I have- I have to go. Th- thanks.” 

In less than a minute, she manages to grab her bag and put on her shoes and runs out into the wind.

Keiji doesn’t mind. But the skin on his back feels like it’s coming undone thread by thread. It’s agonizing, and now he’s alone, not really sure what to do.

There’s tears collected in his eyes, but he refuses to let them go. Instead, he goes to his bathroom, and strips off his shirt.

There’s a line of welts, angry red. It’s burning, 

Sighing, Keiji decides to take a cold shower, not even caring to look up what to do nor call anyone. 

(no one’s would pick up anyway)

+

Now that he’s in bed, thinking about the kiss, He’s confused-  _ ashamed _ at having felt uncomfortable. Is he really … that opposed to girls?

He’s lying in his belly, his back bare and covered with aloe vera (it genuinely surprised that there was some in the house, so rarely did keiji or his parents get hurt). It’s still incredibly painful, but after taking pain meds, there’s not much he can do.

It’s not like he hates girls. Lots of girls are nice to him, and he’s… well, maybe not  _ nice  _ per se, but definitely not mean. Not shoving them onto a hot stove. Until now. Is he really abnormal? Is he really disgusting? 

He doesn’t know the answer to those questions, but he knows that he’d make his mother cry.

Like a movie, Keiji can clearly imagine the disdain and revulsion in his mother’s caramel eyes, the way the ends of her lips would turn down, the furrow of her eyebrows- it’s the face he hates the most; the face of disappointment. His father would disown him and never speak to him again, which really isn’t much different from present reality. 

Akaashi Ren is not a father; he’s a strict disciplinarian that doesn’t care about connection nor fairness. Things must be done his way, up to his standards, or there would be consequences. He’s gone for months on end, but comes back demanding perfection, time and time again.

Akaashi Kagami is not a mother; she’s absent and uncaring, she doesn’t care if Keiji comes home to an empty dark house, doesn’t care if he ate dinner, doesn’t care if he’s alone. But anything Keiji ever does must be perfect; anything less would result in a cold glare and ‘ _ don’t make me look bad’ _ .

Really, until Bokuto, Keiji had thought this was the norm, had thought that hugs were something from the movies, had thought that all the kids below his class rank were going home crying for failing to be the best. Going home to parents who tsked at them and told them they’re incompetent, told them to go to their room and left them alone with no access to anybody for hours on end. Keiji used to think they were going to a home made of dark ice, where they would relearn to be numb once again.

They weren’t.

+

_ They’re at an ice cream shop, stopping for a snack after walking around a shopping center for two hours. _

_ “Wouldn’t it be awesome if there was yakiniku flavored ice cream?” Bokuto asks as they’re waiting in line. _

_ Immediately, Keiji makes a face of disgust. Bokuto laughs. _

_ “Bokuto-san, that’s disgusting. Yakiniku is salty and savory. Ice cream is most definitely not any of that.” Keiji explains with probably too much vigor. _

_ Chuckling, Bokuto continues to explain his ridiculousness, “Ok, but. Consider this. It’s salty ice cream. Like. No sugar. Wouldn’t that be great?!” _

_ He just gives him a deadpan stare. “You want to eat meat-flavored cold goo? Because that’s what you’re saying, Bokuto-san. Besides, there'd still be milk! How do you think ice cream is made?”  _

_ Keiji’s pretty sure he hears the person behind them gag. _

_ Meanwhile Bokuto still looks like he’s contemplating it. “I’d like to try it.” With that, Bokuto huffs, satisfied with his final response.  _

_ The disgusted glare Keiji gives Bokuto makes the taller boy cower a bit. Ha. _

_ “Um, excuse me? What will be your order?” _

_ Bokuto turns to the cashier in excitement, “Oh! Sorry. Can I have lemon ice cream? What do you want, Akaashi?” Golden eyes turn to him, and they’re really so pretty that each time Keiji has to hold back from gasping. _

_ “Just chocolate ice cream.” _

__

_ Once they get their cones, Bokuto begins to go on about volleyball strategies and how he’s going to make Fukurodani look good, and honestly, Bokuto shines so bright with his excitement and hopefulness, that Keiji can’t help but feel as if he’s standing in the presence of a star. _

_ “Ahh I wanna be on the national volleyball team… I gotta work hard!” Bokuto pumps a fist, his ice cream doing a 180 and threatening to fall off the cone. “What about you?” _

_ “Ah, well, my parents want me to be a lawyer.” Keiji says, taking a bite of his ice cream.  _

_ Bokuto tilts his head in confusion, and while it’s very cute, Keiji is worried about the concerned look on his face. “I think you’d be a really good lawyer! But what about you? Do you wanna be a lawyer?” _

_ Without meaning to, Keiji let’s out a bitter ‘ha’. “I don’t really have much choice, you know? You know how parents are.” He shrugs. Yeah, there’s no point thinking about the possibility of another answer; his parents would never allow that. _

_ “What? Nah, you can be anything you wanna be. Especially with grades like yours. I bet any university would die to have you.” Bokuto pats him on back, a bit too hard, “Your parents should understand! Mine did!” _

_ Keiji frowns at that, “What? So your parents are okay with you wanting to be a pro volleyball player?” He had thought that was just a dream of Bokuto’s, not something he was actually gunning for. _

_ “Uh, yes? I mean, I  _ am  _ one of the top aces in the high school selection. I mean, my parents were kinda concerned, but like, I’ve proved that I can do it. I’m working hard. And I’m still gonna go to college, so I’ll have something to fall back on.” Bokuto says, uncharacteristically mature and serious. Sometimes Keiji forgets that the other boy is older than him. _

_ Ice cream is dripping onto both their fingers, yet Keiji doesn’t want to move.  _

_ “So, I’mma ask again, what do you want to do?” _

+

As he walks home after Saturday practice, he enjoys the breeze on his face. His burn faded away, only stinging when he stretches his back.

His legs and arms ache, but for just this moment, his chest doesn’t feel tight. The fresh air is easy to inhale. He’s taking a more rural route that only passes a small neighborhood.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, closing his eyes and letting the sun shine on his face, Keiji feels peace. All his thoughts vanish, and it’s calm.

His inhibitions lower, and for a second, he lets himself be vulnerable. A single tear stray from his eyes; he doesn’t stop it as it continues its journey under his jaw and down his neck.

Pieces and parts of conversation and clattering can be faintly heard from the nearby shop, and it brings Keiji back to reality. He’s lonely but not alone, and somehow that makes him feel even more desolate.

Flashes of bright smiles and spiked hair appear in his mind, and the peace within Keiji is broken.

Opening his eyes once again, he keeps walking, unsure of what to make of his life yet. Unsure whether he can continue like this. 

(He still can’t answer Bokuto’s question)

+

The report card comes out in a week, meaning his tests are this week.

And Keiji cannot afford to be less than first in the class.

So he forgoes meals and studies instead. He locks himself up in his room studying. In the thirty minutes between the end of school and afternoon practice, he studies. 

Keiji can feel his brain melting inside his skull, turning into a puddle of acid. He’s not even sure if he’s really learning anything at all. At this point, it’s just jumbled letters and numbers on paper.

But he can’t let his parents down, not again.

~~He wants to eat food again.~~

Currently, he’s in the club room. None of his teammates go straight to the club room right after school, so it’s just him, for now.

His teeth dig into a bland calorie bar, crumbs falling onto his physics textbook. There’s dark bags under his eyes, covered by concealer stolen from his mom (she doesn’t use it anyway), and his stomach is peppered with blue and nasty fading yellow bruise, and he can’t help but think,  _ is this life worth living? _

For some reason, though, there’s calculus equations in his textbook…  _ wait, isn't that the English passage we read in class?  _ He rubs his eyes, but only stars come to life. Keiji feels really lightheaded for a reason.

Suddenly, everything turns black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akaashi rlly do be panicking
> 
> ahhh what did u think? i appreciate all the comments <3 they feed my hungry soul


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which akaashi almost throws up twice and breathes -0 times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahh i listened to everything i wanted by billie eilish while writing this,, i feel like it fits this fic really well !  
> ( trigger warnings in footnotes )

_can't you see? can't you notice?_

_I'm half deaf_

_I'm pretty broken_

+

When Keiji came to, he was on a white bed, probably at the nurse’s office, and he was alone.

How did he get here? Why is he here? Did practice already start?

_It’s fine, you’re fine, walk it off,_ Keiji reasons as he tries to sit up. Yet his body refuses to listen.

The doors opened, and in came a short woman, hair in a loose bun, probably the nurse. Keiji notices how she refuses to look at him. Was he really that disgusting? He feels a bitter laughter wanting to leave him, but all that comes out is a weak cough. 

The lady turns around, eyes wide in surprise, “Oh… you’re awake.”

They stood here, staring at each other for a few seconds until the nurse clears her throat and moved towards a stack of papers at the foot of the bed he’s in.

“Um, Akaashi, when was the last time you ate?” Her voice is smooth and emotionless, yet it sounds nothing like his mother. Incredible.

Keiji just shrugs, “This afternoon.”

The nurse just raises an eyebrow, “What did you eat?” It’s amazing how it sounds like she doesn’t care, yet Keiji wants to talk to her about everything. Maybe he’s just desperate to be heard. 

Another shrug, “A calorie bar.”

Keiji begins to notice that his shoes and socks were missing, as well as his uniform shirt, leaving him just in his undershirt. What the hell. Who took off his clothes? Did they see? Did they see his ribs his bruises his-

“Where’s my uniform?” Keiji asks, before the nurse can instigate why he’s eating calorie bars.

“It’s in the closet,” She points at a door at the corner of the room, “When was your last full meal? With actual food?”

Keiji suddenly doesn’t want to talk to her anymore. “Why am I being questioned? How did I even get here?”

Sighing, the nurse sets down her notes, realizing Keiji isn’t interested in answering her questions. “One of your teammates brought you here, said you were asleep in the club room, and they thought something must’ve been wrong for you, specifically, to be falling asleep like that in the club room.”

_Who was it? Did they stay for a while? Did they carry me?_

Keiji doesn’t care. His questions are selfish, and he knows he’ll be hurt by the answers anyway.

The nurse looks at him for a few seconds before going to the closet and bringing him his uniform, “Look, you’re an athlete, you should know to take better care of your body. You need to nourish it with the right things. Junk food and calorie bars aren't going to allow you to perform better.”

If he had money to buy real food, he’d have done it by now. But he doesn’t have time for a job, and he doesn’t have friends to borrow money from. It’s a sad predicament, really.

Then, there’s a blood pressure monitor wrapped around his arm and a thermometer under his tongue, yet Keiji feels uncared for.

What’s he so needy for? He wasn’t like this before. He didn’t care so much. Honestly, he didn’t give a shit about his life. And it was so much easier then.

Now it feels like bricks of want keep piling on his back, he can’t keep up; it’s too much too soon- too much expected from him, too much he wants from others. 

Before, he wouldn’t have cared that he woke up alone in the nurse’s office. He wouldn’t have cared that his parents weren't feeding him. Wouldn’t have cared that nobody’s asked him if he’s okay.

He was used to being ignored and used; what else could he expect? Who would care about a stone-cold boy who doesn’t talk nor smile?

“You can leave once you can stand up.” The nurse says, taking away the monitor and thermometer, sitting back at her desk, “Don’t push yourself, if you feel dizzy, sit back down.”

Keiji nods even though she’s facing away from him. Internally, Keiji scoffs, _I’ll stand, even if it kills me._

He can’t stand feeling weak, weaker than he already does. 

But as he tries to even sit up, stars and smears of light burst into his vision. There’s bile building up in his esophagus- yeah, maybe he should lie down some more.

It takes twenty minutes for it not to feel like the world is slipping under him before Keiji can sit up. 

The office was quiet and light filtered in from the window behind him. Does anyone at practice wonder where he is? Or is Bokuto still practicing with another setter that he doesn’t even notice Keiji isn’t there?

_That’s a dumb thought, you’re the team setter, obviously coach and the others would’ve noticed. Even a teammate brought you to the nurse; honestly, you’ve been a burden. Your little adventure to the nurse is a set back to the team and you. At this very moment, you’re wasting precious practice time you’ll never get back because you_ fainted. _Really, who faints in a club room? Are you a complete idiot?_

And that’s enough of Keiji’s thoughts.

Without much thought, he gets up, ignores the brief nausea, and puts on his uniform.

The nurse doesn’t even turn his way as he opens the doors. Really? For a second, Keiji had thought he’d found someone he could talk to. Anyone could’ve been sufficient. He just needed someone to hear. Guess not. Oh, well, he can’t really expect much from others.

With a final ‘thank you’, Keiji makes his way out to the club room once again. Damn it, why didn’t he change into his practice clothes before fainting? Now he’s gonna waste more time.

+

When he finally gets to the gym, the coach calls him to the bench.

Keiji tries not to look at the court, doesn’t want to see Bokuto not looking at him. (and wow, he sounds so incredibly needy and idiotic. He hates himself.

“I heard you fainted.” The coach asks, eyes still on the court. “You’re taking care of yourself, right? I know you wouldn’t do anything to ruin the team’s efforts.”

Keiji swallows, and he can’t help but feel guilty. Because in truth, through all his self pity and bitterness, he hadn’t been thinking about the team and nationals and his teammates and how they depended on him. Yet he still wanted to keep his position on the court. How could he expect such an honor when he’s so selfish?

“Uh, yes, sir. I just didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” Keiji replies quickly. Sure, he doesn’t deserve to be a starter, but if he doesn’t even get to keep his position, then what’s the point of it all? Didn’t this all start because of volleyball anyway? 

“Hm. Alright, well, sit out for today. Tomorrow, you better be good as new, got it?” The coach says, eyes still on the court and a hand patting on the space next to him on the bench.

+

At the end of practice, as Keiji is picking up the volleyballs, the captain, Iwasaki, approaches him.

“Hey, I found you in the club room, are you all right now?” There’s a calloused hand on his shoulder and a sympathetic grin on his face. His voice is understanding and quiet. 

Everything about this moment is too perfect, that it makes him uncomfortable. Well, the hand could not be there, and it’d be better.

Keiji just nods, “Yeah, I’m alright. Just didn’t eat enough today. Thank you for taking me to the nurse.” As he tries to sidestep away, Iwasaki holds onto his shoulder tighter.

“You’re really light. Are you sure you’re eating alright?” There’s still that kind smile on his face. Keiji doesn’t like it.

Stepping away once more, letting the hand fall away, Keiji responds curtly, “I’m fine, Iwasaki-San.”

And instead of changing back into his uniform, he just hurriedly stashes his things into his bags and leaves in his practice clothes.

There’s a feeling of discomfort in his stomach; the spot where Iwasaki touched him burns.

+

Something about the way Iwasaki looked at him creeped him out. Maybe it was the kindness? Only Bokuto and some girls have ever looked at him like that.

Or maybe Keiji is making himself believe he’s uncomfortable because he wants to further himself from making friends and be hurt again. (Even though it was him that hurt himself)

There’s an emptiness in his stomach, and it’s not from hunger. He feels like he’s floating in space, slowing becoming a husk. Soon he’ll become dust and live in the stars. Oh how he wishes he could.

Instead, he’s just a 16 year old boy, lying in bed in a small town in a small country; irrelevant, forgettable, and mediocre.

He should really do his homework.

But he’s tired, and his arms feel so weak. Guess he still hasn’t fully recovered from passing out. One night of rest won't mess up his grades, right?

+

“Pop quiz! This quiz will cover last night's reading!” 

Well. Keiji truly has the worst luck, huh?

“And don't try reading the passage right now, you’re not going to be able to finish it.” The teacher called out as he saw some boys in the back flip through pages of their English book.

There’s a tap at his shoulder. “Hey, Keiji, let us see your answers.” Hitoshi said, cracking his knuckles. But not loud enough for the teacher to notice.

Keiji really had to hold back from laughing. Was this boy really trying to be intimidating? Over a quiz? Ha.

“I didn’t read last night,” Keiji simply states, and it’s the truth. He really didn’t know how he was going to get through this.

Honestly he should be more anxious about this, this quiz has the potential to mess up all his hard work, but he’s just… too tired to worry.

He wants to sleep. And eat.

Minoru kicks his desk, and really, why hasn’t Keiji requested a seating change?

“Don’t try lying to us.” Minoru huffed, displaying a nasty grin, “Or do you wanna go behind the school again?”

When will these stupid pubescent boys realize that Keji literally doesn’t not give a single fuck about them or himself. Nothing benefits him and nothing can hurt him (more than he’s already hurting).

Turning around, Keiji gave them the coldest glare, “I’ll give you answers, but they might not be the right ones.” 

Before they could spit something back, the teacher began handing out the quizzes.

As Keiji read the quiz, the anxiety began to creep in again. Fuck, he has no idea what any of the questions mean. It feels like the floor was pulled from his feet, and a sense of dread and doom entrap him.

His hand begins to shake slightly, and he can’t even tell if it’s because his body is hungry or because of his broken brain.

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck._

Then there’s a kick to his chair. Right. Answers. Except he doesn’t know any of them.

Well, shit. 

+

Somehow, Keiji makes it through the day without falling apart. His hands haven’t stopped shaking.

He wouldn’t be seeing the results until the report card came in, and that terrified him. He’s actually so scared. He’s so so scared; what is he’s not first? Is really going to keep living like this?

God, he doesn’t want to feel like this anymore. He can do better, feel better, but it’s so _difficult._ Why can’t his life just be normal?

At this point, his shoulders are shaking just as bad, his lungs are seizing, and the trees are smears in the air. Where is he?

Oh, oh, he can’t breathe. That’s not good. He can’t feel anything yet everything is too much. It hurts. His mind is racing and speeding and moving much too fast for him. Keiji’s not sure what’s happening to him, but he’s outside in the courtyard, was on his way to the club room. Now he’s crouched next to some bushes, gasping for breath. 

It feels like he’s inhaling water. Nothing’s okay, nothing’s okay, this isn’t right, he’s going to _die he can’t breathe-_

Without even realizing it, there’s tears streaming down his face, and his fingers dig into the dirt underneath him. His finger dig and dig, without much thought, until he can feel again.

There’s a pulsing pain now in his nails, and as he pulls up his hands, there’s blood dripping down torn skin and nails. Bright red blossoming against the stark white of his hands.

His heart is still threatening to break through his ribs, but his eyesight is doing better. The world is coming back to him.

Not quite sure what to do with his bloody hands, he rushes to the nearest bathroom. 

In the mirror, he sees a pale boy with dark bruises under his terrified eyes; face too thin, too exhausted for his age. Keiji looks like a ghost.

A bitter laugh escapes him. God, he looks like a dumpster fire yet no one’s asked him if he’s okay. But then that thought makes him feel like an attention whore; isn’t he such a selfish creature? 

He wants and wants and wants and tries to call it need, but really, he’s just making excuses for his laziness, his stupidity.

+

When practice ends, Iwasaki is walking next to him, smiling.

“You feeling better?” He asks, nudging Keiji. His pointy elbow hits him right in the ribs.

Another first year happens to hear him, “What’s wrong? Is Akaashi-kun hurt? Is that why his fingers are messed up?”

What a nosy jackass.

Iwasaki frowns, “Your fingers?” And without even asking, he grabs Keiji’s hands and inspects them.

Some blood seeped through the bandaids, making everything look worse than it actually is.

“What happened?” Iwasaki asks with such a warm voice. Genuine concern. Ha.

But Keiji isn’t sure how he’s supposed to react, so he just pulls his hands away. “Nothing, I’m fine.” 

Iwasaki flinches, a look of hurt crosses his face, but shrugs and turns to change, leaving Keiji alone once again.

And as Keiji changes, he pretends not to notice Bokuto looking at him.

+

Report cards are being sent to his house at this very moment. The class ranks would be posted on a wall at the end of school. Keiji cannot handle this properly. 

His knee is bouncing up and down, and his classmates glare at him for shaking his table. The teacher has stopped class to glare at him more than once.

_Oh god, I want to throw up._

Everything is still too much. The feeling he had that time in the bushes hasn’t gone away even though it’s been days.

As the day progresses, everything feels worse. The pressure of the world digs deep into his shoulders, collapsing inside him and wrecking his lungs and heart. 

The last thing he needs right now are the boys standing in front of him.

“Keiji~ if we aren’t in the top ten of the class, something bad’s gonna happen~” They tell him as they walk past him in the hallway.

And shit, that does it. 

Briskly, he walks to the restroom, making sure he doesn’t appear strange, and locks himself in a stall. He presses his head into the cool wall, breathing heavily.

The air is rank, making him cough and choke. Everything hurts. He hates the bathroom.

The door opens with a bang, making Keiji startle, and the sink turns on. 

Keiji claps a hand over his mouth, not wanting to be his breath to be heard.

“Isn’t Sakura Senpai hot?” A voice says.

“Damn, I’d do anything to have sex with her,” Another voice groans, “But I think she has a boyfriend.”

_Ugh, that’s disgusting,_ Keiji can’t help but think.

They’ve been in the bathroom far too long. Their presence makes Keiji feel like puking.

“Anyway, let’s go. Fuka said she’d help us with physics.” One of the voices said, the sink turning off and the door swinging open and shut.

Immediately, Keiji gasps for a breath he hadn’t known he’d helo, legs still shaking. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. 

He wants to go home. God, he just doesn’t want to be tired anymore

+

Well, as expected, Keiji was not first in class.

The results shocked him, but the fatigue and hunger kind of numbed him already. Maybe he was already thinking of an emergency plan, a backup plan in case he never got to eat food again. It’s quite a permanent plan.

And also, as expected, the other two boys are most definitely not in the top ten of the class. 

That got Keiji a beating.

They’re behind the school, surrounded by equipment for the air conditioning and bushes. Very secluded. The noise of the machine covers up the yelling very well.

Keiji had been dragged there by an arm squeezing tightly around his shoulders, but now he is being held in place, arms under each of his armpits, unable to escape. 

“God fucking dammit, Keiji. Do you have any idea what’s gonna happen to me?” Hitoshi screams at him, “My mom needs me to go to med school! I need to make money! Do you understand? How the fuck am I gonna do that with bad grades, huh?”

“I’m glad you won’t be a doctor, though, if you can’t even study for a simple quiz.” Keiji replies dryly. What’s the point of begging and crying when the result is going to be the same?

Hitoshi doesn’t even reply, he just uppercuts into Keiji’s stomach. Keiji groans and sags in Minoru’s arms.

Minoru laughs in his ear, “You’re such a little bitch. Why do you think you’re such an easy target?”

Oh, were they actually thinking through about who to pick on? If so, maybe Keiji misjudged their intelligence.

“Because you’ve got no one, Keiji,” Hitoshi huffs, “No one cares about you, not even your parents. You know how I know? Why else would you still be covered in bruises? Why else would we still be in school? You’re smarter than that Keiji, you know by now that no one loves you. Not even that gay boyfriend of yours… what’s his name?”

“Ah, volleyball star Bokuto. That crazy dude.” Minoru supplies.

“Yep,” Hitoshi snaps his fingers as he delivers another punch to Keiji’s chest. 

They’re supposed to be taunting them, but at that point, Keiji wasn’t really listening or feeling much at all. He’s so tired. So very tired. He wants to sleep.

“Can we just get this over with?” Keiji coughs out, “I want to sleep.”

Hitoshi glares at him, “Who the fuck do you think you are? I’m trying to teach you a lesson here. This is what happens when you make us fail.”

Honestly, at this point, he might pass out from the lack of circulation in his shoulders and arms because of Minoru’s tight grip. 

“You failed yourself.” Keiji tries once again, “Have you ever heard of studying? Opening up a book? Letting information into that sack of shit you call a brain?”

Suddenly, pain erupts in his cheek, and his lip and nose are bleeding. That… that hurts more than a punch to the stomach.

“Dude! Not in the face! We agreed only stomach!” Minoru gripes, yet he still holds tight.

Hitoshi huffs, “I don’t care! He makes me so fucking angry!”

You know, Keiji is known for not speaking much, but for some reason, with Hitoshi and Minoru, he seems just fine with talking shit. Maybe that’s why he let this go on for so long.

“What is this? Do you think all your little problems will be solved by beating me up?” Keiji manages to spit out, blood still streaming down his mouth. “You’re like, fifteen, go home.”

That lands him another punch in the face, and wow, Keiji’s not sure if he’s gonna survive this. He might actually die. It feels like it anyway. Hurts like hell.

Then, there’s footsteps running towards them, and Minoru quickly drops him. Keiji lands in a heap on the ground, he moves his hands just in time to stop his face from smashing against the gravel. Now there’s blood on his hands too.

“What’s going on? Who are you guys-” But Hitoshi and Minoru have already sprinted away. A sigh, “I can’t believe there’s actual beating up at school...”

Well, this is the last person Keiji expected to show up.

A hand shoves his shoulder, rolling Keiji over so his face is up and facing the sun. The inevitable gasp is heard. But Keiji is just too tired, too hungry, too hurt to care much. He wants to go home so badly.

“A- Akaashi? What in the-” Bokuto’s pretty golden eyes are wide in shock, “I’m- We need to get you to the nurse.”

_Where even is home?_

And that’s the last thing Keiji remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: panic attack described, blood, and i  
> allusion to dying
> 
> Msofdjiosf im so sorr y i swear i want them to be happy


	6. coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one crush, two crush… one heartbreak, two heartbreak…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bear with bokuto’s thoughts. He’s kinda all over the place im sorry ok 
> 
> Also thanks to virg’s (twt @shinrinyokuowls) beautiful art and headcanons and lily's editing that i’ve finally finished this chapter… i’m sorry for the long wait but happy bokuaka day!!! Thank u to those who’ve commented and waited for this update <3 ily
> 
> (song is coffee by beabadobee)

_you make me feel nice, the green in your eyes_

_makes me feel warm inside_

_and I'll make a cup of coffee_

_with the right amount of sugar, how you like it_

_+_

_“Dad! Why are the owls so loud?” Bokuto giggled, pointing at the stars._

_They were camping in the country, just the two of them. It was fun._

_His father laughs, “They want to be heard, Kou.” He brushes Bokuto’s hair gently with his hand._

_“But whyyyyy? They’re too loud!” Bokuto whines. He’s only 5 years old, and he needs sleep! “Too loud!”_

_“Well, if you could sing so beautifully, wouldn’t you want to be heard?” His father hugs him._

_Bokuto frowns, “_ That’s _singing? It’s just- they’re just going ‘hoot hoot’! That’s not a song!”_

_His father begins to tuck him into the blankets and turns off the lantern, “Just because you don’t like it, doesn’t mean it’s not a song! I like it a lot.”_

_He begins to drift into sleep, too tired to continue arguing._

_“Listen, hear the owls sing to you, Kou.” His father whispers, “Isn’t it nice?_

+

See, here’s the thing. Bokuto is energetic and happy most of the time. He’s really good at making others smile and making them laugh. But it doesn’t get deeper than that. 

For some reason, he just can’t make that kind of connection with people. Something about him makes people not want to… get closer? And he just can’t let people in.

He can’t think of a reason for his distrust in others, but he wishes it’d go away. (he knows the reason. He doesn’t want to think about it.)

How’s he supposed to make friends in middle school if he can’t even learn to know them? And let them know him?

Bokuto just wants to find someone who’ll also make him laugh. That’s it. Is it really so hard?

+

During his last year in junior high, he wins against a team that consisted of a bunch of scary-looking kids at a tournament. One kid specifically stood out to him: tall, messy hair, and eyes that seemed to see too much.

Later that day, Bokuto actually met the kid. 

They were both at a vending machine, waiting in line as some other kid tried to decide on their snack, when the messy-haired boy nudges him, apparently not noticing that Bokuto was from the team that had beat them earlier in the day. 

“What’re you gonna choose? I’m thinking either trail mix or a snicker, but having both would be nuts!” 

Bokuto would be lying if he said he hadn’t laughed a bit at that. Okay, more than a bit.

“Potato chips for sure. Why hesi-tater when it’s so a-peal-ing?” Bokuto retorts, playing along, only to make both of the boys chuckle louder.

They keep making ridiculous puns as the line shortened. The laughter kept rising in volume and hysterics.

“What about the cheese and crackers?” The messy-haired boy asks.

Which to Bokuto replies, “Don’t cut your finger though, it might be sharp.”

At this point, both of them are full-on laughing and slapping each other. The other boy has a loud, hacking kind of laugh; it’s kinda nice to hear.

Others around them are looking at them with concern. The boys don’t even notice, though; they’re too busy trying to regain control of themselves.

When they’ve finally calmed down, the other boy wipes his tears and places his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder, all serious and regal, and asks, “What’s your name, kind sir? It’s been an honor making puntastic puns with you.”

Playing along, Bokuto places his hand on the other boy’s shoulder and looks at him in the eyes seriously, “Bokuto Koutarou. And you?”

“Kuroo Tetsurou.” The other boy says, dropping his hand and patting Bokuto on the back. For some reason, Bokuto already feels like he’s known this guy for years; must be because the other is acting so familiar with him. 

He’s finally up to choose something from the vending machine. “I’m from K middle school. We’ve already lost though, how’s your team doing?”

And that’s when Bokuto realizes he changed out of his uniform (because one of the first years had barfed all over him from all the excitement) and wasn’t wearing any of his school colors.

“Uh.. I’m from R middle school.” Bokuto laughs awkwardly.

Kuroo suddenly stands up straight and turns towards Bokuto. “Oh.” His tone is dry, “ Yeah. I guess we really are all enemies here. Can’t trust nobody, not even your pun-tner.”

Look, Bokuto’s all about being nice and not saying unnecessary mean things but- 

“Yeah, no, dude, that one was weak.” Bokuto can’t help but say. Once the words come out of his mouth, he instantly regrets it. AHH the coach had warned them to not say anything negative to the other teams!!

But Kuroo just laughs, “I know… I think all the pun juice from before has left my body.” And pats him on the back again.

Bokuto just stares in wonder.

“But fear not, my great pun master, I will regain strength soon and will be back in the pun business.” Kuroo makes a fist with emotion. And Bokuto can’t help but think: _this person is kinda ridiculous… I wanna keep talking…_

But their time is cut short, and a small boy with long black hair comes over and pulls Kuroo by his sleeve, “C’mon, we’re having a meeting…”

Kuroo willingly gets pulled along and waves to Bokuto, “Farewell, pun-tner, until next time.”

Though still not quite sure what’s going on, he waves back and internally prays for the next time to happen soon.

+

There’s another tournament, a month later, and Bokuto might or might not be hoping to see Kuroo again. He’s not really sure why Kuroo has been on his mind lately, and he’s not sure if he wants to find out.

Nevertheless, he and his team are warming up, and Bokuto can’t stop thinking that if Kuroo wins his game against T middle school, and Bokuto wins this game, they’ll get to play against each other again.

“Hey, Bokuto, stop staring off into space.” The captain hollers at him.

_Right, legs pulls. Arm over my chest. Deep breaths._

There’s a pat on his back, and Bokuto turns around hoping, maybe-

A teammate smirks, “Ready to kick some ass, dude?”

Yeah… maybe Bokuto is thinking too much.

+

_OH MY GOD we’re gonna play against each other again…. Oh no… i didn’t think this through…. We’re rivals! How are we gonna be friends???_

“Hey, master of puns, you ready to lose?” His hair is still ridiculous.

Bokuto turns around, genuinely excited- not his pretend charisma, perhaps a bit _too_ excited, and smirks right back at Kuroo, “Nah, I should be asking _you_ that.”

Kuroo just chuckles, not even bothered, “We’ll see. My team’s gotten better. I’d be nervous if I were you.” He finger guns and walks off.

_Ah, I’m excited._

+

It was an amazing game. Bokuto’s never thought of himself as a great player, he knows he has things to learn, and the game against K middle school just...opened his eyes. He didn’t know he was lacking in so many things! It makes him wanna practice more, learn more.

That still raises the question: how do you become friends with someone you’ve beaten twice.

Well, thankfully, Bokuto doesn’t have to actually go around asking. Kuroo approaches him as his team goes up into the stands to watch other games.

“Yo! Volleyball god!... yes, you! Bokuto, right?” So he’s not sure about his name. _It’s okay, just pretend you haven’t been thinking about him for… the past month. That’s kinda weird, isn’t it?_

“Oh, hi.” Wow. Bokuto is not a shy person. Why is being like this? “Kuroo-kun, right?”

“Just Kuroo, man!” Kuroo chuckles, like he does, “Anyway, dude, you were amazing. Are you some kinda prodigy and didn’t tell me? C’mon, we’re pun-tners, aren’t we?”

See, it was like this last time too. The sudden familiarity, the inside joke, the friendly sarcasm. He’s known this guy, for what? A couple hours?

Bokuto smiles, “I’m not a prodigy, I’m just an average player, ha.” 

“Whaaat? Dude, you just beat my team… if you’re an average player, I’ll be sad.” Kuroo frowns. 

“No, I mean, you guys were amazing!” Bokuto exclaims, “Your blocks were always on point! It was so frustrating!!”

Kuroo laughs, “Ah, yeah, gotta make sure to keep pesky spikers in check.”

“Bro, but I’m supposed to spike.” The ‘bro’ had been unintentional, it came out on its own. Argh.

The other boy turns around, looks at him seriously, “But it’d be better if you didn’t, bro.”

“But how else am I gonna beat you, bro?” 

“You won’t.”

And just like that, friendship is born.

+

They text quite a lot, honestly. At some point, there’s a groupchat with Kenma- the small, long black haired dude from before. It’s fun.

But then. There’s also. Realizations.

Bokuto might have a crush on Kuroo. Maybe. He’s not 100% sure.

He’s not quite sure what to do with this realization. Does he… tell him?

Kuroo’s pretty cool, but Bokuto seriously doubts any guy would be okay with a male friend telling them they like them. It’s weird, isn’t it?

So - For now he keeps quiet and goes on as he does. He tries not to think about why he likes Kuroo.

(He’s nice, he makes him laugh, he genuinely cares, he’s easy to get along with, he knows something’s up without having to be told anything, he’s unexpectedly smart, he’s also kinda attractive)

(he deals with the whirlwind that is Bokuto Koutarou.)

+

_His father was kind. He was. No matter what anyone else tells him, Bokuto still holds onto the fact that he loved Bokuto._

_They were at a beach; Bokuto was 10 years old, learning how to play beach volleyball._

_It was a hot, humid day. The taste of bug spray was still in his mouth, and he’d just gotten a haircut, so his neck was burning in the heat._

_The sand was getting everywhere, and Bokuto was sure he’d eaten some at some point. It might’ve been the best day of his life, maybe._

_But when they got home, there were police cars parked in front of their house, and Bokuto’s dad stilled._

_“What’s up, dad? D’you think they're asking people for stuff?” Bokuto had asked, already jumping out of the car._

_“Koutarou!” His father yelled after him, but Bokuto didn’t understand why he was so worried. It’s not like he’d done anything bad._

_A police officer stepped out of her car, approaching his dad’s car. “Sir, I’m going to need you to exit the vehicle. Are you Bokuto Jiro?” His father got out of the car and nodded reluctantly. Bokuto had no idea what was going on. Why was the police looking for his father?_

_“You’re under arrest for perjury against the federal law.” The lady said, pulling out handcuffs, while the front door opened._

_“Koutarou! Come here!” His mother yelled from the front door, as another police officer exited their house and walked towards his father._

_His father… is being arrested? What?_

_“Why are you arresting me?!” His father yelled as he was pushed against a car, “What crime could I have committed?!”_

_It was an awful scene. His father’s glasses had fallen off, cracking against the concrete below. Why was he struggling so much?_

_“Sir, you have the right to remain silent._ _Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” The other police officer stated._

_This had to be a mistake! His father was a good guy! He would never-_

_“Koutarou. Come here now.” His mother hissed angrily._

_Why was his mother doing nothing to stop this?_

_Hesitating, he walked towards his mother, unwilling to turn his back on his father._

_“Mom, what… what happened?” He was so confused. And scared. His father was being taken away right in front of his eyes._

_Before the police stuffed him in the back of the police car, his father gave Bokuto a sad smile, a smile that would haunt him for years. The officers bowed towards Bokuto’s mother in apology and drove off._

_His mother carded her finger through Bokuto’s hair, “It’s going to be okay. It’s all right.”_

_Later that night, Bokuto’s sure he heard his mother crying in his parents’ bedroom. Alone._

_He still wasn’t sure what had happened, what his father could’ve possibly done._

_The house was too quiet. Too lonely. Too pensive. He didn’t like it. He wanted his father back._

_Recalling the day at the beach finally brought Bokuto to tears. Why did this happen? This could be fixed right? There’s- there’s a court, right? He’d learned at school that people could be proven innocent! His father is innocent, right?_

_In the midst of his crying, there was an owl outside, singing. The tears stop for a second, and Bokuto is left to admire the song from nature._

_The owls were still here. He’s going to be okay._

  
  


+

  
  


**kubroo!!! 9:48 pm**

bro

**Me 9:49 pm**

yes bro

**kubroo!!! 9:49 pm**

I think

I have a crush

**Me 9:49 pm**

bro

me too???????

whos ur crush

Obviously, Bokuto didn’t expect to be Kuroo’s crush because being gay, a term he’d learned recently, is _abnormal._ And Kuroo might be a weird guy, but he’s not abnormal.

**kubroo!!! 9:52 pm**

Ummmm

what do u think abt gay ppl

Well. That was unexpected. Did… did he suspect Bokuto? Ugh, he thought he’d been hiding it so well!! 

**Me 9:54 pm**

Oh

I think they’re cool bro!!

y do u ask

**kubroo!!! 9:57 pm**

i think im gay

or something like that

idk

_WELL_. 

**Me 9:57 pm**

Oh!!! dude thats so cool!!!

me too bro!!

THAT’S NOT WHAT HE MEANT TO TEXT. AHHHHHHHH

**kubroo!!! 9:57 pm**

REALLY???

thats so cool bro!!

_Does he know? Does he suspect? Can he hear my heart from all the way over here? Does he know I_ like _him?_

**kubroo!!! 9:58 pm**

um well 

anyway my crush is a guy 

I hope thats not weird

If Kuroo, this weird, amazing, awesome guy, is also gay, surely it can’t be _that_ abnormal? 

**Me 9:58 pm**

bro we just established that its not weird!!

who is it

its ok if u dont wanna tell me

**kubroo!!! 9:59 pm**

aaaa well

u know him

**Me 9:59 pm**

????

**kubroo!!! 9:59 pm**

kenma

No, it doesn’t break his heart, but it hurts a lot more than he expected. Of course, Kuroo would rather like Kenma than him. They’ve known each other for _years,_ while Bokuto’s only known him for a couple of months. And Kenma is probably way easier to be around. It’s fine, really.

**Me 10:00 pm**

ohhhhhhhh

thats cute

**kubroo!!! 10:01 pm**

really????

i wanna ask him out

but idk

should i

i mean idc if he says no

but i dont wanna lose our friendship

He doesn’t care? How could he not care about Kenma’s response? That’s his best friend! That’s the guy he likes! It matters! It should! Right? And anyway, what’s he supposed to respond?

**Me 10:01 pm**

well what if i told u i like u

would that ruin our friendship

_WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING BOKUTO KOUTAROU? ARE YOU A COMPLETE TURD BRAIN HOLY FUCK YOU CANT GET STUPIDER THAN THA-_

**kubroo!!! 10:01 pm**

no way bro!! 

ur awesome i wouldnt unbro u just bc of that!!

Oh. It’s that easy. Why was Bokuto so scared? Though his heart still stings a bit with rejection, it’s actually much better than bottling it up…

**Me 10:01 pm**

there u go then!!

u should confess

**kubroo!!! 10:02 pm**

Thanks ur the best bro :’)

Thank god they’re still bros. Hopefully he’ll get over this dumb crush soon.

**kubroo!!! 10:02 pm**

anyway!! u never told me whos ur crush is

_What?!?!_

+

After his father’s trial, they moved to Tokyo, where his aunt (his mother’s sister) lived. 

For a couple of months, it was rough. It’s hard to get unused to having his father around.

His father was convicted for perjury; he somehow had ties with a huge criminal and had lied to cover for him. Bokuto didn’t really understand why his father would do such a thing, but he didn’t really care.

Bokuto loved his father, but he wasn’t sure what to think or what to do in these next 7 years his father would be in prison. It hurt to think about.

So he didn’t.

Instead, he laughed and joked and practised volleyball. He’d rather do anything than think.

+

When they finally graduated middle school, Bokuto dyed his hair.

He’s not sure what exactly compelled him to want to do it, but his mother’s approval only encouraged him.

Kuroo and Kenma had come over (they were dating now) and helped him get the back of his head. It was kind of a mess and his scalp kinda burned from the bleach, but it was fun.

(“Maybe I should dye my hair…” “Kenma?!?! A rebellious streak perhaps?!?! You would look so cute!!!!” “...never mind.”)

His mother had cut up fruit for them as they waited for his hair to dry completely, and they competed to see who could fit the most fruit in their mouth. (Bokuto won, but not by a lot…)

“Are you sure you’re ready to see?” Kuroo said, his hands covering up Bokuto’s eyes. Bokuto tried not to think too much about the touch. That day they had come out to each other, Bokuto had really confessed later and explained, and Kuroo was cool about it; they’re still best friends and Bokuto likes to think his feelings for Kuroo have disappeared completely. 

“Yes!!! Uncover my eyes heathen!” Bokuto shouts, trying not to jump in place.

“Okay, okay, chill, bro.” Kuroo said as he retracted his hands.

“....it’s silver.” 

“Um, yeah. Isn’t that the color we dyed it?” Kuroo laughed nervously.

Bokuto was still silent, staring at himself. He looks so _different_. There’s nothing he can do about it now. It’s permanent. 

“You can dye it back to black, you know?” Kuroo kept saying. He and Kenma kept glancing at each other anxiously.

Kenma poked his shoulder, “Um, Bokuto, if you think about it, doesn’t your hair look like an owl’s?”

Bokuto gasped and his eyes lit up, “Yes! It’s like a great grey owl’s plumes! It’s awesome!”

“Yes! It looks really good, Bokuto.” Kuroo smirked, “All the guys are gonna be lining up for your number.” That was another thing: it was awesome to be able to like guys and have his friends see it as normal and casual. He really loves his friends.

“Ahhh, I don’t know,” Bokuto sighed, “I won’t know anybody! What if I’m alone for the rest of my high-”

There’s a hand on his shoulder, and Kuroo’s staring at him seriously, “Bokuto. You’re gonna make friends. Dude, we didn’t even go to the same school, and we’re best bros! You’ll be fine."

_Yeah, but that’s because_ you _talked to me._ Bokuto decided not to say that, though.

“Your hair is cool, too.” Kenma offered.

Bokuto grinned, “You’re right! Thanks, guys! You guys are the best!”

“Obviously.” Kuroo grinned back, “Now, can we go play volleyball?”

“Why.” Kenma complained as they pushed him out the bathroom to the backyard.

“Because Bokuto is gonna be ace!”

“I am?”

“Yep. You’re awesome, bro.”

“Thanks, bro!”

+

High school was...weird. But it was fine. There’s some other first years on the volleyball team- Yamato, Konoha, and Washio. They were nice, but Bokuto could tell they didn’t really know how to talk to him.

_Whyyyy what’s so hard about talking to me? Am I weird? Even without the gay part?_

“Bokuto! Come sit with us!” Yamato called out to him during lunch. 

“Okay!” Bokuto practically bounded over to them. “Do you guys usually eat here?”

“Nah, I usually have tutoring and Washio is sleeping somewhere else.” Konoha replied, “But we should all sit here during lunch if we can.

So Bokuto wasn’t being left out? That thought eased his heart.

“Konoha, you should stop sleeping in class and start doing your homework, if you really want to ever eat lunch with us,” Washio said. 

“Oh, look who’s talking!”

“I don’t sleep during class! There’s a difference.”

“Sure!”

This was fun. It was fun having people to sit with during lunch.

“So, Bokuto, why did you dye your hair silver?” Konoha asked, nonchalantly.

Running a hand through his hair self consciously, Bokuto replied, “Uh, I don’t know. Just thought it’d be cool.”

“Really?” Yamato said, eyes wide, “Well, it is cool. You definitely stand out.”

“Have you ever thought of gelling it up?” Washio asked.

“Gel?”

“Yeah, you know, spike it up! Hasn’t your dad or your mom given you, like, hair tips?”

Ah, yeah. Right. Parents. Well, his mom did let him dye his hair, so...

“Parents? Isn’t it friends or the internet that help with those things?” Konoha countered.

The argument kept going until they found another topic to argue about and then the bell rang.

By the time their first year in high school is over, Bokuto feels closer to the other first years.

“Are we friends?” Bokuto asks randomly as they all walk home after practice.

Konoha stops and gives him a look that reminds him of Kenma looking at Kuroo. A look that said ‘Are you fucking stupid?’. 

“Uh… Bokuto, we’re definitely friends.” Yamato patted him on the back, and they kept walking.

+

“Your roots are growing...d’ya wanna dye your hair again?” Kuroo asked. 

“Just because you also dyed Kenma’s hair doesn’t mean you’re suddenly an expert.”

“Bro! Why would you crush my dreams like that?”

Kenma looked up from his video game, “Kuroo, you can’t even brush your hair.”

Kuroo groans as if he’d been shot and slides down his seat.

“Sorry, bro.” Bokuto replies, eating another fry. They’re currently hanging out at some fast food place, a week before school starts up again.

Though it was true, his roots were starting to show. His mom had told him it looked messy and she’d rather him dye it all silver or black again.

“But I think it kinda looks like a great horned owl…” Bokuto says, “Isn’t it awesome? And if I start gelling it, I’d actually really look like one!”

Kenma and Kuroo stare at each other for a couple of seconds. They’ve been dating for a year now, so they’ve developed these small things like reading each other’s minds. It was weird and funny to watch.

“Bokuto, why do you wanna look like an _owl_?” Kenma asked.

Bokuto thought long and hard before answering, a whole furrow in between his eyebrows. 

“I don’t know.” Bokuto finally says, an approving frown on his face. “Because they’re awesome?”

Kuroo sighed, “You’re right, they’re awesome. I’m glad I’m already dating Kenma or else you’d probably seduce him with your awesome hair.”

“Shut up, Kuroo.” 

“Make me.”

“Okay, both of you shut up,” Bokuto pretended to gag, “And you’ll see, Imma get myself someone.”

Whoa, that’s not really the direction he wanted to take but… now that he thinks about it, wouldn’t dating someone be nice?

“Huh, is there a guy you’re into? How come I didn’t hear about this before?” Kuroo huffed, crossing his arms. Kenma just rolled his eyes.

Bokuto shook his head quickly, “No, no, nah. I just.. I don’t know.” God, that’s embarrassing. How could he complain about being single to his friends who were dating each other?

Kuroo narrowed his eyes, “I’ll believe you… for now.”

Chuckling nervously, Bokuto was desperate to change the topic, “So, Kenma, are you ready for high school?”

Kenma just lifted his blonde head from his video game and glared. That sent the other two boys into hysterical laughter.

+

Bokuto isn’t sure if he believed in love at first sight before, but he definitely does now. 

There’s a new first year, and he’s _beautiful_ . He has _green_ eyes. And long eyelashes. And a stare that made Bokuto want to... Well, he’s not sure what, but _something._ And his voice is soft and nice, and wow, Bokuto is really gay.

Then, get this, his name is _Akaashi._ His name is an owl! How awesome is that!

So, you know, to catch his attention, Bokuto shows off.

“Akaashi!! Akaashi, did you see that spike? Wasn’t it awesome?” Bokuto hollered after the ball smacked the court loudly on the other side of the net.

Akaashi just nods, his inky black hair ruffling, “Good job, Bokuto-san.”

“Yes! It’s all because your tosses are amazing!” Bokuto said, tossing another ball to Akaashi.

Bokuto runs towards the net, lifting off, and bends his back and scoops his arm around the ball, having appeared to go for a straight but doing a cross, and spikes it.

“Haha! It worked!” Bokuto jumped up in glee, “I’m amazing!”

He turned to see Akaashi looking at him with awe, and wowwww Bokuto really likes him.

“That was amazing, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi says, “When did you learn to do that?”

“Uh, over the summer, I’ve just...been practising. I haven’t mastered it yet,” Bokuto replies, suddenly feeling shy.

Akaashi nods, biting his lip, and Bokuto tries not to stare.

+

**Me 10:12 pm**

bro i think im in love

**nasty 10:13 pm**

oh word?

**Me 10:13 pm**

yes

and when did u change ur contact name???

**broski 10:13 pm**

dw abt it

WHOS THE LUCKY BOY

**Me 10:14 pm**

theres this first year

his names akaashi!! Isnt that so cool!!!

and hes SO PRETYY

bro

hes like

an angel

**broski 10:14 pm**

damnnn thats gay dude

is he nice??

**Me 10:15 pm**

hes so nice bro

idk how to talk to him tho

what if he thinks im annoying

**broski 10:15 pm**

bro no WAY

with ur hair?? he’ll fall for u in no time

**Me 10:16 pm**

Idk bro

he’s not v talkative

even tho his voice is so nice

**broski 10:17 pm**

bro ur so whipped already

**Me 10:19 pm**

IM SORRY BUT U HAVENT SEEN HIM

hes literally art

**broski 10:19 pm**

well he better not break ur heart bro

or imma have to mess up his pretty face

**Me 10:20 pm**

CHILL BRO

hes not gonna be like that 

+

As months went by, Bokuto became better friends with Akaashi. He’d learned all sorts of things about him.

Akaashi doesn’t talk a lot, but whenever he does, it’s about something very important (or at least important to Bokuto). He also avoids leaving the classroom unless he has to, so Bokuto makes sure to drag him outside, at least during lunch (he’s really pale, he needs some vitamin D). And because Akaashi is so stoic, it’s so noticeable when he’s excited about something. His eyes widen a bit, his eyebrows raise, and he purses his lips as if he’s trying not to smile; it’s really cute.

Anyway, Bokuto is trying really hard to not confess his love for him whenever he sees him. It’s difficult.

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi furrows his brows at him. It’s so cute. “Are you not going to eat?” 

Right. They’re at lunch. Eating. Except Bokuto had begun to daydream about dating Akaashi.

“I am!!” Bokuto said, shovelling food into his mouth. “I love food! You should eat too, Akaashi!”

“I am eating, Bokuto-san. And don’t eat so fast, you might choke.” Akaashi replies with concern.

That’s another thing! Akaashi cares so much! He’s really lovely like that.

“But you’re not eating enough! You never finish your lunch!” Bokuto retorts.

“Well, I just don’t have a big stomach.”

“You should tell your mom, then. To stop packing you so much food.”

“I make my own lunches, Bokuto-san.”

“You do? That’s amazing! You should make me some lunch then! I wanna see if you’re an amazing cook!”

“Um, alright, what’s your favourite food?” Akaashi asks shyly, looking up through his eyelashes and god, it does something to his heart. “Though I’m not sure if I’ll be able to actually make it.”

“I love yakiniku!! But that’s not something you can just make…just make whatever you want, Akaashi! It’ll be amazing!”

+

Then it hits him again. Boys liking boys is abnormal, and it’s unreasonable for Bokuto to even think that Akaashi could like him back. 

And girls keep asking Bokuto to introduce them to Akaashi. It’s annoying.

So he sets up a date with a girl and Akaashi. And when Akaashi accepts to go on the date, it really crushes his heart.

Had Bokuto really deluded himself into thinking he had a chance with Akaashi? Akaashi was straight for fuck’s sake. It hurt more than it should.

+

Then Akaashi got a girlfriend. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest and crushed right in front of his eyes.

Unfortunately, he let his sadness dictate his actions.

During lunch, he dragged Akaashi outside to a secluded place. He needed to hear it from Akaashi’s mouth. (this would only hurt Bokuto, why was he doing this)

“Why… why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?” His heart was twisting in pain.

“What do you mean, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi says, not having a clue on how he’s breaking Bokuto’s heart.

Why was he even asking? What excuse could he possibly have for this interrogation? Akaashi is allowed to have a girlfriend.

“We’re best friends. You’re supposed to tell me stuff like this!” It was so see-through, his lie. Well, it wasn’t a lie per se, but it wasn’t the reason why he was sad.

Fuck, he could not start crying right now. He’ll cry when he gets home. Not in front of Akaashi.

“Bokuto-san, she… It's only been three days.” He says, as if it helps.

It doesn’t. It doesn’t help Bokuto realize that beautiful Akaashi, caring, wonderful, amazing Akaashi will never be his. 

“So?! We had practice every day! We walked home together! You could’ve told me then!” Right, right. Friends. That’s all they’ll ever be.

“Um… I… just thought… well, she’d break up with me soon, so I didn’t want to make a big deal of something that won’t last.” Why would he even date her if he thought that?

Is any girl fine for him? Not Bokuto, who wants to treasure him and love him. Just because he’s a guy. Why. He knows it’s not Akaashi’s fault, but Bokuto still curses the universe. And why does Akaashi sound so unsure? He should never feel insecure. Akaashi deserves the _world_.

“What? Why would she break up with you?”

Akaashi shifts between his feet as he says, “Well, I’m difficult to deal with. I’m not very nice, and I don’t really know how to be a boyfriend. I’m not really fun to be around, and Mei-chan has already complained about me not smiling. It’s alright though, it’s my fault.”

Bokuto is speechless. He really had no idea Akaashi thought of himself that way. Or maybe someone told him those awful things. How dare they.

“No!!” Bokuto growls, “You’re amazing! I love hanging out with you! You’re so nice and amazing!! Why would you say that about yourself?”

“Thanks, Bokuto-san. I appreciate it. Not everyone thinks like you, though.” 

So someone _had_ told him all that bullshit? God, Akaashi doesn’t deserve shit like that. He deserves to be loved and appreciated. He needs to know just how special and beautiful and worthy he is.

“It doesn’t matter what others think. I’m your best friend! I know you best! If others, not even your girlfriend, can see that, are they really worth it?” That’s convincing, right? And it’s not gay? Right?

But instead of being comforted, Akaashi’s eyes turn cold.

Bokuto had never seen that expression on him. (he still looks so beautiful)

“How are you so sure you know me best?” And Bokuto flinches at the icy tone.

“Wh… what do you mean?” 

“You don’t know me at all. Best friends? I don’t have friends, Bokuto-san.”

This is so unlike Akaashi. He’d never say such cruel things. And there’s no way he’d deny their friendship! No way!

But before Bokuto can say anything, Akaashi continues, “Are we best friends? Or am I just someone who listens to you all the time? I know _you_. Say, Bokuto-San, do you even know my favorite color?”

And that pierces through his heart. He feels a sense of dread and disgust in himself run down his body. 

“Is- is it… blue?” The fact that he’s even unsure just proves how useless Bokuto is. God. Was Akaashi right? Were they best friends? How could Bokuto be so… so _awful_.

“Bokuto-san. Are you sure we’re even friends at all?”

Hurt. It hurt so much to hear those words. Bokuto hates himself.

“Akaashi, I’m- I’m sorry. I promise I-” But even Bokuto knows there’s no way he can fix this. He’d already messed it up from the beginning.

“I don’t care. I’ve never really considered you a friend to begin with. I’ll see you at practice.” Akaashi says, and his eyes give nothing but a cold stare. Not even a hint of reluctance in his words.

Was Bokuto really so neglectful? Had he really been so selfish? But… he loved Akaashi. He wants to give Akaashi _everything._

His heart had been ripped out, smashed against the ground, stepped on, spit on, ripped apart. His heart was bleeding. 

How could he- how could he let this happen.

+

“So Imma need his address and when he usually gets home,” Kuroo says, his voice tinny through the phone.

Bokuto was crying and the only thing he could think of doing was call Kuroo. Thankfully his bro answered and after Bokuto explained his tears, he was now threatening to hurt Akaashi.

“It was _my_ fault!” Bokuto sobbed again, “I’m so selfish!”

He’s been repeating the same two lines for the past half hour, and it’s not really making him feel better.

“Bokuto. I’m being fully serious here.” Kuroo’s voice suddenly is dark, and Bokuto knows to listen well, “You did nothing wrong.”

Before Bokuto can protest, Kuroo continues, “This dude, Akaashi, sounds like he was just leading you on. I mean, dude, I would never describe you as selfish. If Akaashi really thought so, well, then he’s wrong. There’s just no way.”

“But-”

“No. Bokuto, I’m serious. You have never and will never deserve to hear such awful things.” Kuroo growls at him, “That stupid Akaashi needs to shut up and learn what being selfish really means. If he’s looking for a ‘bad’ person, I’ll fucking show him. I bet he’s never met someone who’s ever disagreed with him. He’s probably so fucking privileged and spoiled. God, just the thought of him annoys me. How dare he make you cry! Bokuto, I swear I’ll beat him up if I ever see him! I don’t care how pretty he is!”

Bokuto sniffs; Kuroo’s rant made him feel better, but… but he _loved_ Akaashi. It hurts so much to think that Akaashi _hates_ him.

“But he’s _so_ pretty.” It’s the only thing he can think of saying. It’s definitely not the right thing to say to an angry Kuroo.

“Fuck that, Koutarou!” Kuroo yells, “He’s a fucking snob! You deserve better!”

“Right…” Bokuto replies. Maybe he just… shouldn’t ever like anybody. Ever again. It always hurts.

“More confidence please, Kou. You. Deserve. Better.”

“I deserve better.”

“Louder!”

“I deserve better!”

“I can’t fucking hear you, dude.”

“I DESERVE BETTER.”

“Koutarou, please keep it down!” His mom yells at him from the kitchen.

“Ha. That’s it. Except don’t keep it down. Remember it.” Kuroo chuckles.

Bokuto rubs his eyes and sighs, “Dude, how am I supposed to see him at practice?”

Kuroo hums while he thinks. “Just ignore him.”

“What?” Bokuto frowns, “I can’t just- he’s the starting setter, and I’m the ace! We literally have to practice together!”

“Well, then find another setter. You can help a first year toss better. Or some shit.” Kuroo huffs, “Akaashi doesn’t deserve your presence.”

“Ha, dude, you’re making it sound like I’m some god.”

“Dude, you are. You’re a g.” Kuroo states.

“Right. And you’re the prince of Japan.”

“I, in fact, am.” Kuroos plays along, “I’m glad you know now.”

“Ha! Shut up!” Bokuto laughs, and it kinda shocks him. He thought he was too sad to laugh.

Kuroo’s kinda amazing like that.

“Thank you, Kuroo.”

“Of course, Kou. I’m always here for you, bro.”

+

So. Um. Ignoring Akaashi is waaaaay harder than Bokuto had anticipated.

He’s still so beautiful and amazing at tosses as before. The only thing that’s different is that Bokuto now knows he hates him.

It breaks his heart every time he thinks about it.

But Akaashi also ignores him, so Bokuto doesn't have to really _try_ to avoid him.

At some point, Konoha asks him if they fought and Bokuto realizes he's gonna have to _talk_ to Akaashi at some point. They need to practice together. For the sake of the team.

He had wanted to meet and talk with Akaashi, but not like this.

It was after school, and he was on his way home. This time he took the route behind the school. Even if it was noisy and loud, it was faster, and he had agreed to meet up with Kuroo today.

Then he hears some grunts and yelling.

“Who’s there?” Bokuto calls out as he nears the AC box.

And now he can clearly see a boy restraining another boy while some other dude hits him. What the fuck is this.

“What’s going on? Who are you guys-”

But the boys drop the beaten-up kid and run for it. Fucking cowards.

“I can’t believe there’s actual beating up at school...” Bokuto sighs as he nears the boy in the ground.

When he turns the boy over, his heart stops.

He sees a beautiful pale face _bloody_ and green eyes in pain. 

“A- Akaashi? What in the-” Bokuto gasps, “I’m- We need to get you to the nurse.”

Then Akaashi passes out. _Fuck! What is happening?!_

Without thinking much of it, he scoops up Akaashi in his arms (and the boy is surprisingly light. Too light.) and basically runs to the nurse’s office, trying not to jostle the bleeding boy too much.

Once he arrives at the nurse’s office, the nurse gasps at the sudden presence and tells him to put Akaashi on the bed.

“Well, this is a familiar scene. Except there’s blood now.” The nurse sighs as she looks at Akaashi.

Familiar? Had Akaashi been to the nurse before?

“Did he faint again?” The nurse asks as she begins to check Akaashi’s blood pressure, “Remove his tie and jacket for me please, don’t try anything funny.” 

_Again_?! What.

But instead of asking, he removes Akaashi’s tie gently. Why were those boys beating Akaashi up? 

_Maybe he said something awful to them too,_ a nasty voice in his head said, _maybe he deserves it._

Bokuto ignores the voice. No one deserves this. No one deserves to be hurt.

As he removes Akaashi’s jacket, the boy’s shirt rides up, revealing nasty bruises ranging from a dark purple to a fading nasty yellow. Bokuto tried not to shout in shock. There were _old_ bruises. And the bruises from the fight today couldn’t already be purple. What is going _on_!

And Bokuto didn’t want to think about the very visible ribs. Was Akaashi usually that thin? Was that normal for him? (Bokuto didn’t want to think about the alternative)

“Miss- miss, do you know about these bruises?” Bokuto asks, willing his voice not to shake.

The nurse looks over, uncaringly, “Oh. Those have been there since Monday.”

“And? Do you know- do you know who did it?” Bokuto asked carefully.

“Hmm, no, Akaashi didn’t tell me.”

Bokuto looks at the nurse in disbelief. How could she be so uncaring? Who knows what could be happening to Akaashi! How could no one care?

A few moments pass and the nurse tells Bokuto that she needs to leave. She leaves him with instructions to walk Akaashi home in case he’s still dizzy. (“He’s just asleep now. You can wake him up if you like.”)

Bokuto is already thinking about reporting this nurse to- to the principal or _someone_. How could someone like that be a nurse?

Now he’s alone with an unconscious Akaashi in the nurse’s office. Akaashi breathes lightly and his face is easier to look at now that Bokuto has wiped away all the blood. His lip had split open and his nose had been bleeding. It looked scary, seeing such an angelic face covered in blood.

**Me 4:04 pm**

dude i’m not gonna be able to make it today

**Brother 4:08 pm**

whattttt why not

**Me 4:04 pm**

Something came up

sorry

**Brother 4:08 pm**

???

Kuroo probably wouldn’t understand that Bokuto wants to stay by Akaashi’s side. He’d probably get angry and say shit like, “he deserves it”. But he’s wrong. 

Sure, Bokuto had been hurt by Akaashi’s words, but it was even more awful to see him pinned and beaten. God, it makes Bokuto angry that shit like that happened to Akaashi.

“B- Bokuto-san?”

Immediately, Bokuto looks up and meets emerald eyes. They’re breathtaking everytime.

“Uh- hi, Akaashi. How’re you feeling?” Bokuto asks, not quite sure what to do now. Why did the nurse leaveeee

Akaashi coughs a bit and blood appears on his hand. _WHAT THE FU-_

“It's probably from my nose bleed. Lying down made me swallow blood, I think.” Akaashi says, not even a hint of worry or concern for himself.

At this point, Bokuto is so lost, he’s not sure he’ll ever know what’s happening.

Bokuto hastily gives Akaashi some tissues and water. “Here. The- the nurse said you could leave whenever you wanted to.”

Akaashi looks around, “Where is she?”

“She left already.”

That makes the boy let out a short bitter laugh, and Bokuto flinches at the pure disappointment in his tone, “Ha. Of course. Why would she stay?”

There’s a silence as Bokuto figures out how to form his question properly.

“Um. Are you...okay?” He asks softly. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to care for Akaashi.

Akaashi just looks at him, and this time anguish and desperation is clear in his eyes.

Another bitter laugh, “I’m not, Bokuto-san. I’m really not.” Then tears start to pour.

Bokuto isn’t sure what to do; here’s Akaashi, a boy who hates him, crying after he’s been beaten up. He’s not really sobbing, but there’s silent tears that escape from his eyes.

“I- I’m sorry.” Bokuto says because he’s not sure what else he can say.

“What?” Akaashi frowns, “Why are _you_ sorry? Bokuto-san, I- _I’m_ sorry.”

_Huh?_

“I said- I said some awful things to you. I- I didn’t mean any of it. I really didn’t. And you- you didn’t deserve to hear things like that. I was awful. I’m so sorry.” At this point, Akaashi was sobbing. Full-on crying, covering his eyes, but tears gathered at his chin.

Saying Bokuto was in shock was an understatement. Akaashi is crying. Akaashi didn’t mean any of what he had said before. Akaashi is crying.

So Bokuto does what he always does when he sees a friend crying- he hugs Akaashi tightly and fiercely.

“It’s okay,” Bokuto says, “It’s okay.”

They stay like that until Akaashi calms down. Then Bokuto realizes they're still in the nurse’s office.

“Bokuto-san, you don’t need to forgive me. I understand.” Akaashi quietly says, but his eyes are still full of agony, “I said incredibly hurtful things. I’m sorry.”

Bokuto smiles softly, though. “It’s alright, I’m over it now. We can go back to being friends, right?”

Of course, he’d forgive Akaashi. Why wouldn’t he?

But Akaashi looks up, eyes wide in shock, “A- are you sure? I’m- I did-”

“Yep, I’m sure.” Bokuto says firmly. Then says, “Well, there is something I wanna ask you.”

Akaashi nods seriously, “Of course. Um. Ask me anything.”

“Why were those boys beating you up?” _Where did you get the other bruises?_

Akaashi hesitates before answering, “Ah. Well. They asked me to help them cheat and I… gave them the wrong answers.”

God, Bokuto wishes he could remember the boys’ faces. Then he could beat them up later.

“That’s so fucking stupid.” Bokuto practically yells out, “They made you bleed because of that? They’re so fucking immature.” 

Akaashi is silent as Bokuto rants. Hm.

“How long has this been going on?” Bokuto asks seriously. _A week. Please tell me it’s only been a week._

“Um. I think… since school started?”

_God fucking damn it. God_ damn _it._

All these months, had Akaashi been enduring those boys by himself? Is that- is that why Akaashi had gotten angry? Because Bokuto hadn’t noticed how much pain he’d been in? 

Bokuto hates himself all over again.

“I’m so sorry, Akaashi, I should’ve-”

“Ah, Bokuto-san, it’s not your fault,” Akaashi says quickly, his lips pursed in concern, “I- I wasn’t angry at you because… because you didn’t notice. You shouldn’t have had to notice, I should’ve- I should’ve just told you. Told anyone. I’m just… I’m just a coward.” Akaashi sags in sadness.

And though it’s true, Bokuto shouldn’t really blame himself for not noticing, he’ll still kick himself for not ever asking about the winces during practice.

“You’re right,” Bokuto says, and Akaashi winces, “You should’ve told someone! You don’t deserve to be hurt like this, Akaashi!”

Akaashi stars at Bokuto in wonder, his face so delicately surprised. He’s still so so beautiful. And Bokuto is still very gay.

“Um, anyway,” Bokuto isn’t sure what to do under Akaashi’s stare, “We should get going, I don’t think there’s anyone left at school.”

He’s eternally grateful that they don’t have practice today. It would’ve been bad for many reasons.

“Right.” Akaashi says as he tries to get up from the bed, just wobbling a bit. Bokuto steadies a hand on his back, ready to catch him. 

Oh, man, his feelings must be obvious, huh?

Akaashi puts on his jacket and tucks his tie into his pocket. He looks down at his bloodied shirt and sighs, “I don’t think this will come out.”

“...I don’t think so either. Your parents are gonna freak!” Bokuto said. That’s another thing. How could his parents not notice the bruises? And the incredible thinness? 

Well, he _is_ glad that… that the bruises are from some teenage boys rather than…

Anyway.

“My parents probably wouldn’t even notice,” Akaashi says coldly, bitter.

The tone in his voice makes Bokuto frown. “What?”

Akaashi shrugs nonchalantly, “I’d have thrown away the shirt before they even got home.”

“What time do they usually get home?”

“Hm, usually around eleven but sometimes at nine if they really try.”

That’s so late! Do they even eat dinner together?

“Say, do you wanna come over for dinner today?” Bokuto asks. He’s definitely not going to let Akaashi be alone right now, not after… well, everything.

Akaashi furrows his eyebrows, “Um, Bokuto-san, it’s okay, there’s nothing you need to… you don’t need to make me feel better. I should be the one making up for my words and actions…”

Bokuto flaps his hand at the shorter boy, “Nah, dude, we’re okay. I’m inviting you ‘cuz we’re friends. C’mon.”

And without letting Akaashi argue, he grabs links their arms together and drags him to his house.

+

“Pardon for the intrusion,” Akaashi says as they walk into Bokuto’s house.

“Oh, hello, dear! You must be Akaashi.” His mom welcomed Akaashi. She smiled warmly. 

Bokuto had texted her as they had walked about Akaashi and dinner. He’d also explained that he was very, very thin. His mom replied with “I’ll make something really tasty. He’ll want seconds”. Bokuto really loves his mom.

Now they’re at his house, standing very awkwardly. His mom finally says, “Why don’t you guys go outside and play while I finish up dinner?”

“Mom! We’re not little kids!” Bokuto complains. He also didn’t think Akaashi could play much volleyball with the beating and bruises.

“Ah, uh, thank you, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi bows. He’s so formal.

“Let’s go, Akaashi, do you know how to play video games?”

And Bokuto’s slightly offended when Akaashi shakes his head. He’ll fix that, right now.

+

They’re at the dinner table and Akaashi is being so quiet.

Bokuto guesses he should also feel sort of awkward, what with the fact they haven’t talked in almost a month and now they’re eating dinner together.

But Bokuto would rather skip over the awkward and go back to being best friends. (they had been best friends, right?)

“Akaashi, what’s your favorite food?” His mom asked as she piled food onto Akaashi’s plate, smiling innocently.

“Um, oh, nanohana no karashiae,” Akaashi replies hesitantly. 

“Maybe I’ll make it someday!” His mother giggles.

Bokuto is restless, waiting to eat, “Thanks for the food!” And they begin to eat.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Bokuto notices Akaashi eating slowly, barely eating anything.

“Akaaaaashi! Eat some more!” Bokuto calls him out.

Akaashi nods, putting a bigger spoonful of food into his mouth.

After a few spoonfuls, Akaashi stills. Even his mom notices the panic in Akaashi’s eyes. 

“What’s wrong, Akaashi?” Bokuto asks carefully.

Then Akaashi stands up suddenly and runs to the bathroom, a hand clutching his mouth. 

Bokuto and his mom quickly run after him, concern etched in both their faces.

There’s sounds of vomiting coming from the restroom, and his mom stops him from entering. She knocks on the door carefully, “Akaashi, are you okay?”

Groans come from the restroom, and his mom enters. 

“Mom-”

“Go get me a glass of water.” She says sternly.

**> X<**

“Akaashi, dear, what’s wrong?”

Akaashi shakes his head; he’s kneeling on the floor, and there’s vomit in the toilet.

“I- I’m sorry,” Akaashi rasps.

“Oh, it’s alright, dear.” Bokuto’s mom says warmly and takes him into her arms.

Akaashi holds her shoulders tightly through the hugs, his own shaking slightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The boy kept whispering.

It squeezed her heart hearing his small, weak voice. A child shouldn’t feel this sad, this lonely. Who let him be alone for so long?

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” She says as she cups his face gently.

She knows what it’s like; avoiding food, feeling incredibly undeserving of good things, wanting to cry when she ate. She knows. 

“You deserve love, Akaashi.” She whispers to him, wiping away tears, “You are worthy of love.”

**> X<**

Bokuto goes to his closet to find clothes that might fit Akaashi. He’s not sure why, but his mom told him that Akaashi was going to be staying over.

After the dinner incident, Akaashi had come out of the bathroom crying, holding his mom’s hand. It’s weird… but Akaashi had agreed to stay the night. He was currently in the shower

Leaving the clothes outside the bathroom, Bokuto then walks to the kitchen with his mom. 

“What’s up with, Akaashi?” Bokuto asks, frowning at being left out. 

“Nothing, nothing I can tell you, Kou,” His mother sighs, “I’ll just tell you: Akaashi is a boy who needs a lot of love. I don’t think he’s getting much of it.”

Bokuto isn’t quite sure what that means. Akaashi tried to push him away!

Surely someone who needs love wouldn’t do that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have so many headcanons about this fic but idk if i’ll get to write them all.. Anyway i hope u liked this extra long ch! I’ve made an anitwt!! Come talk haikyuu w me @spicyyyjam on twitter!!

**Author's Note:**

> spare comment,, spare kudo,,, _(:_」∠)_  
> thanks for reading!  
> talk haikyuu!! w me on tumblr @im-a-beautiful-meme!! send me some prompt lol


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